The Economic Woes of the Lord of Evilland
Epic #3 – Dwelling Depot of Darkness
A roaring fire burns in the courtyard of the lair of Lord Emperor Zhorg – beside the fire, a great bronze minotaur statue stands tall as goblin servants of the Lord of Evilland ritualistically dance before it. Just as the frantic dancing reaches a climax, the Lord of Evilland himself emerges from the bowels of his fortress with a series of captives in chains following behind as spear-wielding goblins prod them along.
“Minions of the Lord of Evilland” the emperor begins his announcement with the raising of his arms in front of the entrance to his fortress. “Today you shall bear witness to the fates of those who conspire against the Lord of Evilland – behold those who were once fellow servants like yourself” he continues as he reaches into his armor to produce a parchment with a list of names.
“Asara Moonrider,” the emperor calls out whilst gesturing to the first servant in chains – a member of the harem that has apparently offended her master. “You have been accused and found guilty of conspiring with elvish assassins to slay the Lord of Evilland by way of hypothermia. Have you nothing to say for this?”
“My lord,” the servant frantically replies to the accusations. “I give you my sincerest apologies for allowing your bath water to run cold! It was a huge mistake on my part and I beg your forgiveness! But at no point have I ever conspired with elves – I don't even know any elves!”
“It's too late for apologies!” the emperor bellows in response. “Open the hatch!” he commands to the servants around the minotaur statue: they produce long, iron pokers that connect seamlessly to hooks on the statue which open a door to the hollow, bronze beast. With a single, fluid motion the emperor picks up the harem girl and thrusts her into the compartment before the goblins close the hatch behind her: within moments, the statue was hoisted by a series of chains and pulleys into the flames – for the next several minutes screams of blistering pain can be heard coming from the statue before they fall deathly silent, followed by jets of steam pouring from the nostrils of the great beast.
The crowd of goblins frantically cheer and dance with glee as the steam comes forward, celebrating the death of an alleged traitor to their lord. Just as this celebration began, a winded goth intern emerges from the entrance of the fortress and take her place beside her lord. “Did... Did I miss it?” she pants with exhaustion.
“The first traitor has been disposed of” the emperor answers with a cold malice in his voice. “And just where were you? You are to be making record of all this!”
“Apologies, my lord. I had to...” the goth intern pauses. “You know... Make use of the palace facilities.”
“Well make sure that your feces take notice of the schedule set by your lord and master” the emperor replies. “Now, onto the next traitor! Festus of Armoth,” he reads from the parchment as he approaches the next prisoner. “You have been accused and found guilty of conspiring with elvish assassins to slay the Lord of Evilland by way of food poisoning. Have you nothing to say for this?”
“My lord, I offer my most sincere apologies for under-cooking your souffle – I should have left it in the oven another ten minutes!” he pleads with the Lord of Evilland. “But I have never in my life even spoken to an elf, let alone conspired with one against you! I swear it to you on the souls of my ancestors that I would rather die than make any bargains with an elf!”
“Then die you shall, traitor!” the emperor retorts. “Open the hatch!” he again commands as the goblins reach for their pokers once more – with another fluid motion, the servant is thrown into the hatch to be boiled in his own bodily fluids.
On and on this continues – accusations of treason followed by more painful screams of suffering as the victims perished inside the great bronze beast. With each execution, the goth intern becomes increasingly exited by the sights and sounds of death before her. “My lord,” she whispers to the emperor, “may I be excused for a minute? I need to... Uh... Relieve myself of some of this excitement...”
“Your duties are not yet finished, minion!” the emperor rebukes the intern. “Go assist the new chef with preparations of the corpses for the goblins' feast! Human flesh is a true delicacy for them and the Lord of Evilland will see to it that their taste for it is filled this day! They must be hungry for victory against that elf bitch that made an attempt on the life of the Lord of Evilland should she show up again!”
Oh gods! the intern exclaims silently. I just have to delay the gratification. But that will make relief that much sweeter! Just hold it in...
Just as the aroused intern leaves her master's side to assist with feast preparations, Rorgaag the Slayer approaches the gate of the courtyard – a goblin in a black robe and pointed cap standing beside him. After the guards open the gate, he approaches his lord with news.
“So,” the emperor questions his minister. “What can you tell me of the plot against the Lord of Evilland? He grows tired of his confinement to his lair and adjacent properties! How soon until the elvish collaborators are hunted down and slain?”
“My lord,” the orc finance minister begins, “we have no solid evidence to indicate which party hired the assassin to target you. All we know is that the assassin is a female elf and that she's associated with the National Socialist Elven Workers Party – the only reason we even have this much information of her is because of the footage your intern recorded.”
“Then just what have you come to tell the Lord of Evilland?” the emperor questions impatiently.
“I will allow the minister of intelligence to answer that question” the finance minister states as he gestures towards the hooded goblin – the lead spy for all Evilland intelligence services Loogrug Staabs.
“It seems to me dat we haz got ourselves a few primary suspects” the goblin begins his brief in a high-pitched, raspy voice. “We thinks dat the stunty Dwarves might haz contracted wit some elvish extremist groups to git some payback for what you did to the little stunty princess. Another possibility is dat one of the rulers of the confederated territories might be gettin' a bit big for his own britches and is lookin' to rub you out so dat he might make a power play afta you kick the bucket. If you asks me, the stunty king definitely needs a stabbin' and at least one of the lords under you needs a stabbin' too!”
“The Lord of Evilland could have reached this conclusion himself” the emperor rebukes his intelligence minister with rage in his voice. “Why have you come to tell the Lord of Evilland what he already knows? The Lord of Evilland believed that you might bring news of traitors in the midst of his fortress who might be tormented and executed for both information and the pleasure of the Lord of Evilland, yet you bring him nothing!”
“My lord,” the orc finance minister replies, “that's another issue that we wish to discuss with you – we understand that you are very frustrated and filled with contempt for those who plotted against you that day, but randomly accusing servants that drop the proverbial ball in their duties of treason has negative impacts on morale and may give incentive for them to form actual conspiracies against you. In the interests of your own safety, it is our duty to the Lord of Evilland to advise him to discontinue this execution spree and allow us to do our jobs: we need to keep word of possible traitors in our midst quite lest we inspire the actual traitors to cover their tracks – making them more difficult to uncover.”
“Ridiculous!” the emperor retorts. “The brass minotaur will be kept boiling day and night until all possible opposition to the Lord of Evilland is purged!” The emperor turns to the goblins around the roaring fire and with a gesture commands them to hoist the great minotaur statue from the flames in preparation for its next victim. “The Lord of Evilland will see to it that all who displeased him boil this day! Bring forth the next group of prisoners for execution!”
But at the very moment he finished his command, one of the chains of the pulley system suddenly broke – the heat of the flames apparently weakened the fastening of the links of the chains which have been forged at a discounted price due to the ongoing economic troubles of the Lord of Evilland as they were not properly tempered to withstand exposure to the heat of open flames for extended periods of time. As the pulley system unraveled, the great statue came tumbling to the earth with a great thud before rolling over dozens of goblins gather around the fire – crushing them immediately before crashing into the courtyard gate.
“AAAAAAAGH!” the emperor screams with fury upon bearing witness to the gates of his fortress being brought low by the statue-turned-impromptu-battering-ram - “The one place of refuge that the Lord of Evilland has in this crisis is now compromised! Have those responsible for this travesty put to death!”
“We no can do dat, boss” Loogrug Staabs replies. “The stupid fucks dat did this got themselves smashed when the statue fell – there's no one here to execute for this.”
“Well,” the emperor pauses. “Someone has to pay for the damages to the gate! Extract from all the mercenaries gathered here the necessary funds to repair the damages!”
“That would be unwise, my lord” the orc finance minister replies. “The troops are already taking pay furloughs as it is – something like this could result in a revolt: one that extends beyond the walls of the fortress if word of such measures get out. It's best to just contact your insurance provider and see what they can do for you here.”
“Uh...” the emperor mutters before falling silent.
“My lord, you do have insurance for your fortress. Don't you?” the orc finance minister queries nervously.
“You see...” the emperor stammers out, “uh... The Lord of Evilland has been told that no insurance company in his kingdom would create any kind of policy in his name without a premium of at least one billion gold coins per month – they say that the Lord of Evilland would be a high-risk client to insure because of his reputation for violence and destruction...”
“Oh gods...” the orc finance minister mutters to himself as he presses his fingers into his eye sockets to release the stress building up behind his skull. “Repairing this damage will cost a fortune and I don't think you'll be able to find a contractor willing to sign up for this job with your financial track record - we either have to break off units from the front lines, compromising your kingdom's defenses, to go on slaving raids to acquire the labor for this project or you'll have to find a way to do this yourself.”
“And ya can't stay here when ya do it, boss” the intelligence minister chimes in. “Ya lair is no longer secure – wit the gates down, it's now all-too-easy for some dimwit wit a knife to sneak in and give ya a stabbin' while ya sleep!”
“The expenses just keep piling up for the Lord of Evilland, don't they?” the emperor laments. “The cost of labor, the cost of materials, the cost of lodgings – where does it end for the Lord of Evilland in these lean times?” he rants on as the goth intern at last makes her way towards her lord: the appearance of her face and skin is flush with blood, her hair is disheveled and she sports a look of relief in the form of a small grin when she approaches her master.
“I am soooo sorry, my lord” she begins. “The sight of all those goblins being crushed beneath the rampaging bull-man statue just... It was just too much excitement for me to handle and I just couldn't help but... You know...”
“We gits the picture ya sick fuck!” the intelligence minister interrupts. “Unless you have somethin' of worth to add to this discussion, git lost!”
“Well...” the goth interns pauses, “I think I have an idea that can reduce the cost of rebuilding the gates if we make it a DIY job.”
“The Lord of Evilland better not hear another proposal for a part-time job...” the emperor complains. “Remember McBurgerprince? Pizza Shed? There things create more trouble than they are worth! The Lord of Evilland is surprised that anyone would bother with such things!”
“Perhaps if the working classes of Evilland were paid a living wage and had guarantees of a healthy working environment...” the orc finance minister begins just as his lord cuts him off.
“No! Do you think that Virgin-mobil would agree to increasing the wages of their tech priests? Do you have any idea how this will drive up the price of virgins – a commodity that's already exceptionally pricey? And what about companies like McBurgerprince and Pizza Shed? The price of pizza and potato crisps would be through the roof!” the emperor rants on about the consequences of a living wage.
“But my lord,” the orc finance minister continues “the increased wages means more consumer spending! This translates into more commerce taking place overall! Yes, there might be some price increases but if the living wage is tied to inflation the effects of those increases might be mitigated!”
“Enough!” the emperor commands his minister to desist from further discussion of this matter. “What matters now is repairing the gates, so if the intern must propose another one of these things then the Lord of Evilland must go through with the humiliation of wage labor once more...” the emperor trails off with disillusionment in his voice.
It's like talking to a wall... the finance minister says to himself. “Very well, what does your intern propose?” the finance minister asks with a sense of resignation to the complete absurdity of the situation.
“Well...” Lavinia begins, “I know that Dwelling Depot sells building materials to its employees at discounted prices – if we both work there and pool our resources, we might be able to buy enough materials to fix the gate on a budget.”
“And what 'bout security?” the goblin intelligence minister speaks up. ”Ya can't stay here boss! Ya need to get lodgings elsewhere!”
“My lord can stay with me and my roomies!” Lavinia cheerfully answers. “We all share a house not far from Evilland University and I bet that they would just love meet you! I'll even let you take my room during that time!” And maybe even share the bed together... the goth intern fantasizes. All my girlfriends would be sooo jealous!
“Very well,” the emperor accepts the offer. “But you get the couch! The Lord of Evilland only accepts the best accommodations that the house has to offer!”
“It's all yours, my lord” Lavinia gleefully replies. Maybe I can sneak a peak of him through the keyhole – I wonder if he sleeps in sensual pjs, or perhaps in nothing at all? she ponders within her own dirty mind. I can't wait to find out ! “Come on – let's introduce you to the girls and fill out the application!
***
The Lord of Evilland approaches the door of a small house carrying a suitcase formed from the skins of his fallen foes – beside him his faithful goth intern barely contains her excitement at the prospect of her idol and role model living with her. “Ok, ok, ok...” she nervously chants as she reaches for the door handle to usher in her new housemate. “There are two other girls I share this place with – they are friends of mine from the cheer squad back in high school and I hope that they can be your friends too! We'll have soooo much fun together!”
“Yes...” the emperor responds unenthusiastically. “The Lord of Evilland is reduced to living in this hovel by his incompetent minions but at least he will have new friends. Just gods damn wonderful...”
“That's no way to be – you just got to look on the brighter side!” Lavinia chides her master with a cheery disposition as she swings the door wide and makes an exaggerated gesture of her hands while bowing to let the Lord of Evilland into her abode. The emperor walks through the door to be greeted by the sight of a teenage girl on the living room couch playing around on her Orange Istone: the girl with two-tone red and purple hair dressed in tattered jeans, a white spaghetti-strap shirt with a message that reads “Blow Me” in pink text and combat boots barely looks up from her reclined position on the couch to acknowledge the entrance of the ruler of the entire kingdom she inhabits before returning to her Istone.
“Oh Audrey,” Lavinia calls from the door to her roommate. “Guess who's here?”
“Some old dude who never goes out in public without his face completely covered?” the girl on the couch responds sarcastically. “Oooh! I'm the great and powerful overlord – I can kill thousands of people and make pacts with dark powers in exchange for all sorts of strange gifts and abilities, but I can't provide the little village of Vlint with water that isn't absolute poison to drink!” she continues mockingly.
“The Lord of Evilland should tear out your tongue for this insult and cram it right back down your throat!” the emperor shouts back in anger. “But he presently needs a warm body to help pay rent on this little shack he seems to be stuck in.”
“Wow.” the girl on the couch replies in a sarcastic monotone. “Threats of violence from an evil overlord. Shocking. But seriously, I have no idea what Lav sees in you – and yet I'm totally willing to just stay out of your way so long as you stay out of mine. And don't eat the Warreos in the kitchen: those are mine. Got it?”
“The Lord of Evilland has no use for your Warreos anyway – and you better learn some respect for him as he won't be in this predicament forever...” the emperor threatens from behind a thin veil of civility.
“What's with all the hostile vibes I sense in the living room?” a voice calls from behind a doorway covered with strings of beads on the opposite end of the living room. Moments later, a girl with long, brown hair that seems permanently frizzled and reeking of cannabis emerges from the doorway: she was a true picture of the “free love” movement of another decade – dressed in a flowing tie-die miniskirt with a peace symbol prominently displayed on the front, a matching tie-die headband in her matted hair and a pair of sunglasses with an orange-yellow tint in the lenses, she flitted across the room to meet the new guest in their shared abode. “You must be Lavinia's boss” she says with a lilting voice. “I am Rachael Fair Child of the Earth and Sky, but you can just call me Rach if you like.”
It seems that the Lord of Evilland is in a circus the emperor silently says to himself. How is it that he keeps finding himself in these ridiculous situations? Well, he must make the best of this and slay these freaks later...
“So, mister Zhorg... Do you partake?” the hippie girl asks as she reaches into her dress to produce a marijuana cigarette. If you want anything else that might help expand your consciousness, feel free to stop on by and just chill – contemplating the universe around us as we open ourselves to all manner of new experiences.”
“The Lord of Evilland has no need of your poison!” the emperor angrily declines the offer of the hippie chick. “Your kind are barely tolerated in his kingdom and you would do wisely to avoid angering the Lord of Evilland any further!”
“See? I told you this guy is a prick” the girl on the couch chimes in. “Just try to ignore this edgelord wannabe while he does whatever it is he does with Lav.”
“You're too judgmental!” the hippie replies. “I believe that he's just a lost soul looking for his place in the world – he acts the part of the domineering overlord because that's all he knows: he just needs the right person to show him another path.”
“The Lord of Evilland is not an 'edgelord' nor does he need to find a different path to some drug-induced love-in!” the emperor shouts furiously. “You need to understand who is the ruler and who is the ruled before the Lord of Evilland has enough of you and sees to it that your suffering is greater than any that his enemies have experienced yet!”
The emperor storms out of the room with a huff and heads towards Lavinia's room – he slams the door and the clicking sound of a lock can be heard. “Um...” Lavinia awkwardly chimes in as she turns to her roommates. “Yeah... I hope that you guys can be great friends?”
***
The Lord of Evilland now wears an orange apron over his armor as he stacks paint cans onto a cart to be pulled out to the aisles of the Dwelling Depot he now works in – his intern approaches from behind with a list of changes recently made to the stocking order. “Ok” she begins, “the interior paints are now going to be on aisle #14 instead of #12 – from this point on #12 will be reserved for outdoor paints only. And lighting fixtures will be moved to aisle #16 so that aisle #18 can be integrated into the seasonal section for the coming holiday of Evil Day; totally my favorite holiday, by the way – it's a wonderful way to celebrate the greatness of this land as well as my favorite overlord!” she concludes as she takes the arm of her master in hand.
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“This is embarrassing” the emperor lets out with a sigh - “the Lord of Evilland being forced to work on displays for his own holiday! This is a sacrilege!“
“Now, now...” the goth intern chides her master. “Just bear with it a while longer – it's been a whole three weeks and you haven't even threatened a customer with death yet. I am so proud of you for this kind of personal growth!”
“Now, now...” the goth intern chides her master. “Just bear with it a while longer – it's been a whole three weeks and you haven't even threatened a customer with death yet. I am so proud of you for this kind of personal growth!”
“And it has only taken every last once of patience that the Lord of Evilland can muster!” the emperor retorts angrily. “Between these idiot managers, the stupid customers and the roommates that the Lord of Evilland must come home to every night it's a wonder that he hasn't sentenced all these puny insects to a slow, painful demise!” he shouts raising his fists into the air. “Seriously,” he continues, “that punk girl gets on my nerves to no end: it's always 'if you're so great, why don't you make sure nobody is suffering from abject poverty' this or 'you're such a loser that you can't rule your kingdom and meet your own expenses because you really suck at financial management' that or 'I told you not to touch my Warreos' even when the Lord of Evilland never came anywhere near those gods damn Warreos!”
“Yeah...” Lavinia answers sheepishly. “She does get really protective of those Warreos – which I am most certainly not eating behind her back!” she continues with her eyes shifting to the sides nervously. “But she'll warm up to you in time – she just needs to see your greatness like I do! And what about Rach? She seems friendly enough to you...”
“That gods damn hippie...” the emperor responds with a huff. “Just last night she tried to pollute the body and mind of the Lord of Evilland with her 'special brownies' she claims will help the Lord of Evilland 'chill out' or 'expand the boundaries of consciousness' or some other such nonsense. If her kind ever became more influential in Evilland society, the Lord of Evilland would soon have no more warriors to fight for his glory and slaughter those who incur his wrath as they would be too hopped up on cannabis and who knows what else for such important tasks!”
“Well...” the goth intern pauses. “She is still making an effort to make you feel welcome in our abode and you do have to live with her a while longer – so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to reciprocate her kindness. After all, we did give you the best room in the house and you get to wake up to see your glory reflected back you every morning there!”
“Yeah, uh..” the emperor stammers. “The Lord of Evilland finds the posters in his room to be a little... Strange. He feels compelled to ask why the concubines surrounding the Lord of Evilland in those posters have their own faces covered with yours, but a part of him fears the answer to that question...”
“Uh... You see...” Lavinia awkwardly reaches for an answer that doesn't make her seem like an obsessive fan girl that's irrationally dedicated to someone who hardly knows her outside of work. “It's just that... I have a very strong appreciation for you and would love to be at your side for every waking moment and...” she trails off as the noise of a great crowd becomes audible in the distance. “What's happening over there?”
As the emperor and his intern make their way to the front of the store, they find a great throng gathered along the aisles as an honor guard of Amazon warriors dressed in their formal togas clear a path for the entrance of their charge – the sliding doors of the Dwelling Depot open and the legendary Queen of the Amazons comes through the portal: a girl of short stature and blue hair dressed in a blue toga with a golden sash, her head adorned with a crown bearing a single, red jewel the size of a human fist – the queen Blue Zonja.
“OH! EM! GEE!” the goth intern exclaims. “The great butcher of the Dead Basin is here! I totally have to get her autograph before she leaves! She's one of your best commanders! Perhaps you could introduce me? I will be more than happy to do anything you desire for just the opportunity to shake her hand, my lord!”
“What the hell is the brat that sprang from the loins of the Lord of Evilland doing here?” the emperor wonders aloud. “She should be in her home province looking after a little brat of her own!”
“Wait a minute...” Lavinia interrupts. “She's your daughter? OH! EM GEE! This is like a family reunion! I can't believe that my greatest role models are related like this! Hold on... I have to shoot Audrey and Rach a text about this...”
As the intern reaches for her Istone, Lord Emperor Zhorg casually pushes the crowd out of the way until he faces the honor guard of the Amazon Queen – they initially raise their spears in a defensive posture, but rescind shortly afterwards once they recognize the figure that approached them: standing to the side with their weapons raised in a salute to the Lord of Evilland as he makes his way towards his daughter. The blue-haired queen smirks at her father with contempt as he comes towards her. “So,” the queen begins scornfully. “This is what has become of the great Lord of Evilland – stocking shelves in a retail outlet like a mere peasant...”
“The Lord of Evilland has had a few setbacks” the emperor replies. “But the Lord of Evilland still goes where he pleases! But you? You are supposed to be looking after some spoiled offspring your own province of New Themiscyra. What brings you here?
“Well, as it so happens I came here on a quest of great ritual importance to my people – something you should know a little something about as mother made a similar quest shortly after I was born...” she states with barely-concealed anger in her voice.
“The Lord of Evilland knows of your bizarre customs and offered your mother another way – a superior way practiced by the rulers of Evilland for centuries!” the emperor retorts. “If she had simply become a concubine of the harem she would still live today!”
“But life without taking your manhood as a trophy is a life of shame!” the Amazon Queen shouts at her father. “In fact, I just finished my quest – you know the father of the child I bore? The Death Derby charioteer Ajaxan? Well, his manhood now resides in a box in the back of my chariot – and one day yours will be in a similar box as I take it to avenge mother!”
“Ha!” the emperor scoffs. “You lack the nerve for this – all of the offspring of the Lord of Evilland have challenged him for his throne and all have slain beneath his axes! You will be no different than the other would-be usurpers and you know this...”
“Ugh!” the Amazon Queen exclaims in disgust. “It's been a long time since I had to put up with your grandiose manner of speech – must you constantly refer to yourself in the third-person you pompous buffoon?”
“You need to remember your place, child – before the Lord of Evilland decides to...” the emperor threatens his offspring before a squealing of college girls interrupts the conversation.
“See? I told you it was Blue Zonja!” Lavinia squeals with joy as she points towards the blue-haired queen for her two friends. “If we play our cards right, we might even get a selfie with her!” she continues as they come up against the spear wall of the Amazon honor guard.
“No – the Lord of Evilland has no friends!” the emperor replies with fury. “One of them is the intern of the Lord of Evilland – one who has proven herself faithful, enthusiastic and dedicated to her work, unlike someone here – and the other two are just roommates that he finds disgusting and barely tolerates...”
“Hmph...” the Amazon Queen pouts with disdain. “It seems like we should continue our discussion another time – we don't want the reality of our tumultuous relationship spilling out into the public sphere, do we now?”
“It seems you are correct” the emperor agrees. “Guards – bring those foolish girls forward so that they might engage in some antics with their beloved hero for public relations purposes!” he commands to the honor guard: at his word, they stand aside and allow the college freshmen to enter into the presence of the great warrior queen.
Within moments the Amazon Queen was surrounded by adoring fans - “you are truly a feminist icon of our times!” the hippie fawns with glee as she bows at her feet. “And your work with the New Themiscyran aqueducts? Brilliant!” the two-toned punk adds as she bows besides the hippie. “Can we please get autographs? We will cherish them forever!” the goth intern chimes in as the emperor just looks on silently with disgust while his daughter lays on the charm with the these ignorant college girls.
***
Autographs were signed, selfies were taken on Istones and some surface-level interview questions concerning hair care, make-up and advice for young girls were answered as the crowd at the Dwelling Depot looked on with a sense of awe at the celebrity in their midst – after some time had passed, the goth intern finally raises the question she had been hoping to ask since she first saw the Amazon Queen.
“So, might I ask what brings you here today?” she queries. “Did you know that your father was here – did you just stop by to pay a visit to our lord (who is just super awesome, by the way)?”
“Heh...” the Amazon Queen chuckles with a hint of arrogance in her voice. “Why would I come here to see him? The truth is that I came by to acquire some supplies to decorate the nursery for my newly-born princess – one who will succeed me and carry out the traditions of her people without fail!” she adds with a hint of malice as she glances in the direction of her father.
“Traditions that are tolerated so long as they serve the purposes of the Lord of Evilland” the emperor replies coldly.
“Well, no matter” the Amazon Queen rebuffs her father's statement. “I think it's best that we carry on with the shopping, yes?”
“Oh, please allow us to help you!” the hippie chimes in - “I'm thinking of a psychedelic pattern of soft blues, orange, yellow and green for the walls! It would be totally groovy!”
“As if!” one of the Amazon honor guards interrupts. “It's tradition that a warrior be raised in an atmosphere that reflects her role – the walls shall be blood red to resemble the blood of the foes she will one day slay!”
“But perhaps it's time to put that aside – times are changing and there's more to life than just war” the two-toned punk rebuts. “I think that we should prepare the new princess to think outside the box: let's paint those walls black to inspire her to search the darkness of her soul and question everything she knows.”
On and on this bickering over the decor of the nursery continued as the group made their way through the store – each new item place on the cart the subject of yet another debate as the Amazon Queen just grinned and bore up under the inane babbling of her barely-tolerated guests for the sake of keeping up the act.
Then the goth intern just felt the need to ask a fatal question... “These are all valid opinions, but what does my lord think about this? After all, the princess is your grandchild – shouldn't you have a say in what surrounds her?”
“No!” the Amazon Queen barks at the intern. “There's no way in all the hells that I would ever let that man have any say in how my daughter is raised!”
“But...”Lavinia attempts to answer before she is immediately cut off.
“This man shouldn't even be here today – mother should have done her duty and taken his manhood to me as the ways of our people require, but he robbed me of that birthright and I will never forgive him for that!”
“You overstep your position, daughter...” the emperor threatens as he begins undoing the strings on his Dwelling Depot apron – getting ready to cast aside to role of the worker to resume being the Lord of Evilland.
“My rightful position is where you stand now!” the Amazon Queen rants at her father with uncontrolled rage. “Had my mother not failed, the Amazons would rule Evilland today! We all would have been so much better off if that elf bitch did her job, but she just had to fuck it up for all to see on the ethereal net!”
With that a stunned silence came over the crowd – the Amazon Queen pauses her rant with a cold realization of her confession while Lavinia makes her way over to her lord to get some clarification. “My lord, I thought that we kept that part of the Pizza Shed incident secret – how does she know about the elf?”
“There's no way she should” the emperor replies as he pushes the intern aside. “What have you been doing, daughter? What bargains have you been making behind the back of the Lord of Evilland?” he asks menacingly of the Amazon Queen.
“Oh, you knew that this day would come!” the Amazon Queen retorts. “No one holds the title of the Lord of Evilland forever without challengers! And I just saw a convenient way to remove you from that position...”
“Because you are afraid to face the Lord of Evilland yourself” the emperor interrupts.
“Wha-” that Amazon Queen stammers before being cut off by her father.
“The Lord of Evilland always expected you to face him in single combat for the throne, but this act proves that you are not a worthy challenger – if the Lord of Evilland is wrong, prove him so right now, whelp...” the emperor concludes his challenge as he draws his axes from his back.
“Wait...” the Amazon Queen pauses. “There must be a way to... Seize them!” she calls out to her honor guard while gesturing towards the guests she was humoring just a few minutes before: the hippie and the two-toned punk immediately found themselves surrounded by a circle of spears aimed at their hearts – with stunned looks on their faces they put their hands in air and pleaded for mercy with their captors.
“My lord?” Lavinia asks with hesitation in her voice. “You won't let them do this, right?”
“Heh...” the emperor begins with a chuckle. “Heh heh heh... Do you really believe that taking hostages will save you? What you believe the Lord of Evilland to be – some chivalrous knight? Some wannabe hero looking to save the fair maiden from the bandits? All he wants is your head and he cares not who must die to see that it is taken.”
The Amazon Queen silently reflects on the situation as nervous sweat appears upon her brow – I can't negotiate with him, but I can't back down from this challenge either: my people will no longer accept me as queen! I don't know if this is a fight I can win, but I have no choice but to try as refusing the fight is certain death...
With that last thought, she removed her golden sash and cast aside her blue toga – revealing her bare form of an athletic body: one of a small, linear build with narrow hips designed for speed and agility in aerial acrobatic maneuvers. Now clad in nothing but her crown, she removes it from her head and places it around her neck as a pendant while reciting a prayer. “Oh spirits of queens past, give me strength and quicken my steps that I may overcome the enemies of my people!”
As she utters her prayer the jewel on the crown begins to glow bright red as the metal around it extends to form a suit of armor: one of golden bracers and horned pauldrons on the arms, knee-high boots upon the legs and only small, thin plates over the chest and loins – from the bracer on the left hand a buckler of gold with razor serrations along the edges grew and from the bracer on the right a short blade emerged to be wielded by the Amazon Queen.
“The Lord of Evilland sees that you have your mother's old armor” the emperor observes without much reaction. “It didn't save her and it won't save you, daughter...”
“Save me?” the Amazon Queen questions sarcastically. “No! You will need saving this day as I take my birthright from you!”
Without further words between them, the combatants clash against one another – unleashing the full fury of their power as the crowd looked on. The cashiers of the Dwelling Depot took out carts full of snack foods typically kept at the registers as impulse buy items and began selling them among the gathered throngs: “get your L&Ls here” one would cry out; “Notterfingers for sale” another would shout; “Fritter Los here” another would call – all seeking to increase the profit margins of the store where the impromptu bout for the throne of Evilland is now being held without any advance notice.
And still others seek to profit from this unusual occurrence - “I put 2-1 odds on the emperor!” a voice can be heard calling from within the crowd as a hand raises a coin purse full of gold pieces. “I wager 3-1 on the amazon!” another cries out. Within moments crowds within the throng of onlookers began to gather to place bets upon who would emerge as the victorious lord of all the realms of Evilland.
Even as the crass commercialization of their battle went on about them, the two combatants took no notice of the crowd surrounding them – the Amazon Queen dodging her father's attacks repeatedly whilst searching for an opening for land the killing blow as the emperor seeks out a single hit as any strike from his axes would be crippling: the magical armor of Blue Zonja is intended to maximize her agility and striking power with little thought given to actual protection of the body – as the Amazons consider armor plating an admission of weakness, the less armor one wears into battle the greater the boast of warrior's martial prowess.
At last, the blow is struck – the emperor's axes find their mark and shatter the buckler of Blue Zonja's armor and remove her left arm: the shards hit the floor and degrade into golden dust mixing with the blood around the severed limb as the Amazon Queen falls backwards from the force of the blow. “Shit!” she calls out from the ground as her father slowly meanders over to her position.
“Your mother put faith in her buckler as well” the emperor coldly taunts the fallen Amazon. “It did her as much good as it did for you. If you surrender now, the Lord of Evilland will give you a quick and honorable death and spare your people from retribution.”
Unwilling to accept her demise, the Amazon Queen quickly rises to her feet – without any hesitation, she bolts towards her honor guard to seize the prisoners they still hold.
“My queen?” one of the honor guards queries with a look of confusion upon her face. “What's the meaning of this?” But her question went unanswered as Blue Zonja pulled the prisoners away from the grasp of her guards.
“Don't come any closer!” she barks at her opponent with a crazed look in her eyes as she places her blade at the side of the hippie. “I will do it! I will spill her entrails on the floor right now!”
“Did you not hear the Lord of Evilland before?” the emperor remarks coldly. “They mean nothing to him. Do it.”
The Amazon Queen feels herself bleeding out quickly and needs to end this fight: her only hope is to incite her opponent into a wild rage so that he might leave open his defenses for a precision strike to a vital area – he says that these girls mean nothing to him, but the Amazon Queen hopes against hope that this is just a bluff.
With but a flick of her wrist, the Amazon slices the midsections of both of her captives – she then pushes them out towards the emperor as they struggle in vain to keep their intestines from falling out. “No!” Lavinia cries out as she rushes from the crowd towards her friends. “How could you do this? We never did anything to you!” she rants at the Amazon before a blade pierces her throat.
“Congratulations, daughter...” the emperor mocks. “You have only succeeded in ridding me of troublesome fools because you don't have the courage to face your fate. But really, is this any surprise coming from one who deals with elves?”
“Guards! Slay him!” the Amazon Queen desperately calls to her honor guard as her ploy fails, her eyes full of fear for the approaching end. “What are you waiting for? Your queen has given you a command!”
The honor guard just hang their heads low in shame – such behavior coming from one who dared call herself queen is unforgivable. “Guards! About face!” the commander of the unit shouts: in unison, they all turn their backs towards the one they once called their queen – several with tears streaming down their faces in sorrow and shame on behalf of the cowardice of one so beloved by them.
“They have abandoned you, child.” the emperor observes as he approaches his daughter – she falls to her knees as her skin turns pale from blood loss. With the last of her strength, she raises her head to see her father looming over her. “Father, I-” she begins pleading.
“The Lord of Evilland has no offspring” he replies as he brings down his axe with a final blow – one that splits the Amazon Queen in twain: the two symmetrical haves of her bisected corpse fall to opposite sides in a pool of blood surrounding them.
“Go tell your kin what you have seen this day” the emperor commands the Amazon guards even as their backs are still turned to him. “Let them know that the fury of the Lord of Evilland is coming because of their queen's spinelessness.” With those final words, the emperor collects the remains of his intern and walks out of the store with no further incident.
***
Y'AI'NG'NGAH,
YOG-SOTHOTH
H'EE-L'GEB
F'AI THRODOG
UAAAH
Yet again those words echo through the ritual chamber – and yet again the pile of essential salts upon the stone alter become flesh as the Rites of Yog-Sothoth are preformed. In a familiar scene, the goth intern awakens with a deep gasp as she rises up from the table.
“Ha!” she laughs as she turns around with haste to examine her posterior. “Not today!”
“The demons attempted to feast upon your soul again, yes?” the emperor calmly inquires.
“Yeah – one of them nearly took a chunk out my ass this time, but I'm back!” she replies cheerfully. “So, where are the others?”
“The others mean nothing to the Lord of Evilland” the emperor responds without any hint of emotion. “But you still have duties you can preform for him.”
“My lord...” Lavinia pauses. “I am grateful that you saw fit to restore me to life, but... They...” she begins to sob. “They are very dear to me! I know that you didn't get along very well, but I beg you to bring them back!”
“What purpose would this serve the Lord of Evilland?” the emperor queries coldly. “You can get new roommates that will contribute rent to your dwelling.”
“Please!” the goth intern begs more furiously as she throws herself at the feet of her master. “You have no idea what we've been through together! That's not something you can replace – I never ask anything of you my lord, but I am now! Don't leave them in that afterword of demonic horrors!”
“Very well” the emperor responds with a sigh. “It won't be too much of an imposition upon him, but the Lord of Evilland has a special duty that you must accomplish for him first.”
“Anything my lord!” the goth girl enthusiastically responds. “Do you need me to spy on someone? Perhaps slip some poison into the food of some fool that earned your ire? Or send me on a quest to retrieve some relic of ancient power?”
“Nothing of that nature” the emperor replies as he calmly hands the intern a robe. “All he wants you to do is...” he pauses as he turns around to sit on the steps leading up to the alter.
“Is to sit with him” he concludes his sentence. “He... He just needs a friend right now.”
“My lord... didn't you say that the Lord of Evilland has no friends?” Lavinia queries as she covers herself with the robe.
“The Lord of Evilland never needed any til now” the emperor confesses with a sob in his voice. “He never felt this kind of shame and sorrow since he ascended to the throne of Evilland over a century ago! He has never been betrayed like this! Not since...”
“Since... When?” Lavinia asks she takes a seat beside her master. “What happened?”
“It was so long ago – your grandparents were likely not even born at this time.” the emperor continues. “All you need to know here is that the cowardice of my own flesh and blood shames me in ways that the Lord of Evilland hasn't been shamed in many decades!” he finishes before he breaks down in tears pouring out from space beneath his helm.
“I'm really sorry to hear this. If it helps you through this, I will be more than happy to be your friend this day.” the goth girl states reassuringly as she take the emperor's hand into her own. “Now, what would you have your friend do?”
“The Lord of Evilland just... He just wants you to sit with him as he grieves” the emperor replies. With that, the two continue to sit in silence by the stone alter of the ritual chamber...