The Dark Lord Wants to Rule the World! (Angering Elves)

Thank you to the Anon who compiled this for me just as I finished doing it.
Your version looked nicer.
Enjoy the werekitten.

Updated:8/19/2015
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<The Dark Lord Needs an Army!>

>Spend years hunting down tomb to ancient barbarian warlord, feared for his savagery and skill at arms. His axes had claimed many a warrior until he was slain through a combination of poison, thirteen arrows, and a fruit cart.
>Break open burial tomb and traverse the dusty corridors until you reach his final resting place, his body mummified and buried with all his wealth.
>It is time, invoke the darkest magics possible to return the warrior to life, twin orbs of blue fire burning within the skull's eye sockets as a false soul is placed within his empty shell of a corpse, his very memories ripped from the bones and copied over.
>As the spell finishes in a burst of inky black shadow you see your minion for the first time, boney limbs slowly grabbing its weapons as it rises, twin orbs of bale fire burning from a beautiful face, her great, heaving bosom bare to the world.
>This...is your champion?
>....this isn't like your ancient tomes of darkness at all!

_____

>Come across an recent battlefield littered with corpses, the perfect spot to resurrect soldiers for your skeletal champion to lead into battle.
>The smell of death, the cawing of ravens. This is your home (other than the apartment back in town at least anon)
>Invoke the dark magic again, cackling as your zombie horde rises, groaning and moaning for....warmth?
>Cute paladin missing an eye (now replaced with more blue fire) rubs her cheek against yours while the other's join in.
>Even your warlord gets in on it, the traitor.
>Have to spend the next few hours convincing thirty zombies to stop cuddling you so you can lead them to war.

_____

>Growing forces need some extra help, hopefully some with a brain.
>Go to a graveyard and, after raising a couple skeletons and zombies, track down a few ghouls who've been in the area.
>Eventually find them in an abandoned crypt on the edge of town, your entourage of your most fearsome (see, still armed) warriors at your side.
>They are wary but ask what you want, the four of them eying your three guards and the skeletal champion.
>You tell them your dreams of spreading the shadow of death throughout the world, chocking out the very sun itself with your might.
>They are unimpressed but have nothing better to do, saying that they'll agree if you give them a little "fresh meat" to seal the deal.
>Snap your fingers and have a freshly slain bandit (killed by a runaway cow) brought down.
>They look at you in disgust and tell you that isn't what they meant before the smallest, and youngest looking, slips her head below your robes and starts giving you a messy, noisy blow job.
>It's nice but only becomes mind blowing when her sisters join in....and then your body guards...and then your horde outside (working on a crude schedule so it doesn't get too crowded)...and the new zombie raised from the bandit who transforms from all the demonic energy being thrown about.

____

>Operation siege the town had, finally, had its first step accomplished. A mighty force of forty skeletons and zombies, with four ghouls, had been assembled.
>All you needed now was a heavy hitter, a putrid cherry for your rotting sundae (well, it would be if they actually showed signs of decay)
>After hearing rumors from within town (cleverly disguised as a humble, traveling merchant) you walked north towards the wastes, your eyes set upon a prize of infinite power.
>A fallen dragon, something you could use to set towns ablaze with a breath of noxious plague gasses and claws with which to rend armor and steel.
>It was a long and grueling journey, your horde moaning a bit more than normal amidst the howling winds and blowing dust. Luckily you came across a few more corpses along your way, more addition's to the swarm!
>After your warriors beat back a few grabby harpies and chased off a ferocious manticore (cub), you found the cave you were searching for, a deep tunnel that led to an empty cavern filled this bones.
>This was it, a great creature of ancient power.
>Your incantation was a masterful thing, your undead army clapping and going "oooooh!" as it finished.
>Now was the time! Arise oh mighty dragon and......why does it have a snake tail?
>Where are the wings?
>What kind of dragon is....a wurm....
>You traveled a week through hellish sand and wind to raise a WURM.
>They aren't even real dragons!
>Overcome with despair, you decided to lay on the ground, your newly risen minion curling around you and groaning "warm"
>A call that was soon repeated by the rest of your army.

<The Dark Lord Needs a Town!>
>Victory over the tiny village was easy, their rag tag militia of five men unable to stand before your mighty horde.
>They fought valiantly but none can stop your shambling hordes.
>OH! and the zombie wurm, she smashed their gates like they were made of tissue
>Regardless, the town was yours and the people had gathered in the square, forced out by you dark, cuddly horde (you may want to work on that last bit.)
>In your darkest voice you spoke before them how they were the first village to fall in your dark quest. And it was because they were a prideful town, a sinful town.
>All they had to do was sell you that apple a week ago, now they had to reap what they sewed.
>Turning to your trusted skeletal champion you ordered her and the zombies to execute the townsfolk so you may raise them again under your dark hand.
>There was wailing, there was screaming, there were tears and they were all from your undead army.
>As your second in command told you (all while six crying zombies and one weeping zombie wurm tried to hug you) they couldn't do that type of thing any more, they had a few "rules" they had to follow.
>Rules? Against killing?! How can you build a kingdom of the dead like this?
>Your cursing drew a couple more crying zombies who hugged you tight, all while the entire town watched, unimpressed by their new "lord of darkness"
>You were furious. Undead that can't kill? What next? Zombies that need to eat?
>They say your screams of rage could be heard the next village over.
___

>After calming down from your enraged screaming fit, aided by the hugs although you'd never admit it, you began the process assigning the members of your horde food sources.
>Oh sure, they called them "Huuuuusbaaaaan" but you knew better than that.
>This was not without issue though, a few of the village men were already married and had to be convinced (Threatened) to accept their new wives.
>You also couldn't get the wurm to stay with hers, as she preferred to just wrap around you, your skeletal champion, now known as Agetha the unpleasant, flat out refused anyone who wasn't you.
>Your first act as undead lord wasn't to raze a town and slaughter innocents, it was to impose polygamy.
>After conquering the village, you leapt right into action, ordering your horde to raise a mighty fortress of black stone and iron with lots of edges.
>Because that's how you roll.
>Unfortunately, black stone is in short supply at this village, along with anything useful, and your horde has no engineering skills.
>As such, your fortress of darkness was temporarily located at a room in the inn. A room you had to share with wurm and skeleton.
>Whatever, tomorrow would be better.
___

>It was the dawn of a new day, the sun was shining over your newly formed dark realm and the birds were singing cheerful songs of darkness.
>Today you approached the blacksmith and "discussed" (see: Demanded) that he begin churning out new weaponry and armor to equip your army with.
>He flat out told you "no" because he had; A. No iron and B. not enough people to do that in any meaningful numbers.
>These are problems, you do not like problems. The answer to these problems? Dwarves!
>Dwarves had iron for armor and weapons, experience for making said weapons and armor, and skeletons for filling said weapons and armor.
>So it was you assembled half your horde (leaving the skeleton champion behind to run things and maintain control) and marched back to the mountains.
>There were dwarves in them hills, and you were going to find the.
>A quick stop was made at the village cemetery, raising your horde back to full strength and marching north.
>Just like last time, you were stuck wandering through the awful wastelands with your groaning throng of the dead.
>And just like last time you had to chase off a manticore cub.
>After a day and a half of wandering, you finally found what your were looking for, an old dwarf mine known to contain iron.
>It would be tough going, your horde had been bloodied against peasants but now it would face a true test, a battle against hardened dwarf soldiers, warriors who had battled against the deepest terrors and emerged victorious.
>Today they would fall though, your endless dark horde advancing through...empty....tunnels...
>For hours you searched, poking through every nook and cranny without any luck.
>In fact the only dwarf you did find was an elderly one who ranted and raved about how they'd dug "too deeply" or something.
>Oh well, at least you get put him down aaaand there he goes from a heart attack.
>...you hate the wastelands

<The Dark Lord Needs a Familiar!>
>Operation "Army of Darkness" has hit a new snag, said snag being that you can't blot out the sun because your Zombie's husbands actually need to grow food.
>It's kind of spoiling your image, because who has ever heard of a kingdom of darkness where the sun is shining brightly and the birds are singing?
>Whatever, you still have a zombie wurm, who has become very clingy, and a skeleton who is the only one even resembling competent.
>OH! And skeleton dwarf is making weapons and armor at a better rate now that you have some actual iron to work with.
>Today is not a day for relaxation though, you have important business to do! Namely, the creation of a familiar.
>All lords of darkness have been known to use ravens, venomous snakes, and spiders for their arcane companions.
>Sadly, there are no snakes outside of garden snakes you can find, all the spiders appear to be common house spiders, and you, so far, have been unable to catch any Ravens, the clever bastards.
>As such, you've settled for a ragged, black tomcat you found dead, one ear torn away and battle scars covering it.
>Well, technically the wurm found it and it's a kitten but reality can suck a dick, you've got a horde of serial huggers and it is NOT taking this from you.
>Gathering a few alchemical and arcane components from the nearby woods, you are prepared, enacting a ritual that will help create a creature to augment your magics.
>The sky grows dark at your words (or a passing cloud) and the winds blew at a gentle breeze, your masterful, necromantic powers.
>The zombie wurm is watching with blank look of excitement and your peerless champion is standing at attention for whatever may happen.
>For the final ingredient you slice open a finger with a pen knife, adding a droplet of blood to the ritual.
>There is a crack of thunder and a flash of light as the ritual ends, your mana draining away to empower your newest servant, an intelligent creature as black as night who is an extension of your will
>It will be an agile creature, an extension of your will that shall watch from the dark places, it will be a....a...cat...girl...thing?
>Sitting before you in a circle of burnt grass is your familiar, a young looking creature with a cat's ears, paws, and tail, all colored black, and a pair of leathery bat wings. Her skin is pale and her ebony hair is cut into a short bobcut.
>"Are you my -yawn- master?" the little cat asks you, her green eyes shining with a strange light despite the black circles around her eyes, making her look extremely tired.
>You tell her that of course you are! You are the master of shadow! The lord of the dead! He who will bring about an age of darkness to last a thousan-
>And she fell asleep, your new familiar falling asleep on the grass, as the sun shone through the clouds.
>It's times like this you consider drinking (more) as you pick up the still sleeping cat creature, shooting your champion an angry look as she sniggered at your misfortune, the wurm slithering it's way over to you with her expressionless face, looking the sleeping cat girl in the face.
>Whatever, you have a familiar, even if it purrs when you scratch it's ears.
___

>You return to your "dark bastion" (See: Room in the tavern) with the newly born servant of death asleep in your arms, bare but for where her tail and midnight black fur covers her.
>You're going to need to get her some clothes, can't have any servant of yours walking around naked. Well, she would have were she a cat but she's..technically still a cat...Maybe?
>You toss the dilemma of whether she is or is not a cat aside, you have nefarious deeds and regal clothes to purchase.
>Regal, not cute. You can't let any servant of yours run around in frilly clothes, bows, and ribbons.
>Disregarding those undead of yours whose husbands have decided to dress them up.
>"Halt foul necromancer!" a proud voice calls to you, snapping you out of your dark dreams of frilly dresses and silken ribbons "Your reign of terror ends here!"
>Your attention snaps up towards the tavern and, standing atop it, is an ivory haired woman in gleaming plate and wielding a silver sword and shield.
>A paladin! Here to slay you!
>You are so giddy with joy that you can barely containing yourself, your energetic bouncing earning a confused stare from your champion and awakening the sleeping familiar, the magical cat-girl creature...thing...giving a small yawn and stretching in your arms.
>You've finally hit it big! You have adventurers coming to stop you now! You've prepared for this day.
>"Is that what you think puny hero!?" You shout in your most bombastic voice, handing the familiar off to zombie wurm. "That you are the one who will end my dark and terrible kingdom?"
>The birds sang happy songs as you gathered your power in a needless display of might, the paladin pointing her blade at you.
>"I do not think so foul sorcerer! I know soooooOOOOOO!" her proud retort was cut short as she slipped on a shingle and fell off the roof, landing with a loud 'thump' and not moving.
>"I believe she is dead master," the ancient, skeletal warlord told you, walking up and poking the unmoving body with the tip of her axe, the rest of the townsfolk staring wide eyed.
>"W-we didn't even get to fight." you say to yourself, the undead wurm giving you a "gentle" pat on the back that sends you stumbling towards the ground, the familiar asleep in her arms again.
>"Of course not!" a loud, familiar voice shouts out to you, drawing your attention back to the roof "Because you won't even qualify as a fight for me!"
>Standin- floating atop the roof is a a pale, transparent figure of the paladin. A proud smile still on her face and ghostly blade still drawn.
>Well, this is new.
>"As soon as I get down there, I will cast you and your horde back into the earth from which you came...from?" Oh boy, she just saw her body. "W-what is that?"
>"You," your champion replies, turning the body over with a boney foot "You fell off the roof."
>"B-but that can't be me!" the now distraught specter shouted, her sword falling down "I'm up here and...floating..."
>There was good second where she looked down at the ghostly tail she had instead of feet before she collapsed on the roof, weeping about how she "wanted to be a hero!" and "How will I ever become arch paladin now?"
>Suffice to say, everyone felt a little awkward at her uncontrollable weeping. It was so pathetic that even the zombies tried to cheer her up, although their attempts were mostly going "warm", "hugs", and "not that bad."
>It even moved your heart a little, causing you to walk forward and tell her that you have a position in your dark forces for her causing her to give a small sniff and look at you from the edge of the room.
>And then you tried to raise her body by reflex, a pulse of black energy causing it to twitch and stand as your magic brought it to unlife.
>"D-did you just make my body a zombie!?" she shouted, quite livid as her corpse gave you an empty look before turning to her ghost
___

>"Meeeee?" the new borne zombie moaned, pointing at the shade with a vague look of confusion on her face "I..on....roooof?"
>Well, this is new. You'd always known that you could resurrect a body without a soul but doing it while her ghost is present? That's interesting.
>"N-no! I'm me! Your just my body!" the spectral former paladin shouted back, floating down until she was looking her body face to face.
>"Me...not...meeee?" the body groaned back, trying to think and having no such luck.
>Not that you were doing any better despite your joy and what was your first dark deed in this place.
>"No I'm not you -er- your not me but you WERE me and..." the ghostly warrior soon fell quiet as the situation overloaded her brain.
>In fact, everyone seemed to have frozen at this turn of events, except for the body who, true to zombie form, had decided to hug you, moaning "waaaarm" all the while.
>This, in turn, triggered zombie wurm to hug you, the sleeping familiar latching onto you as she came close, and all the rest of your horde clinging to their new husbands with a chorus of "warm"
>"S-stop it!" the ghost shouted at her body, the corpse ignoring her and nuzzling into your neck "Stop hugging him!"
>"Nooooooo" was the only response she got, leaving you trapped and snuggled for the next hour while the ghost pouted.
>These aren't like your tome's of horror at all!

<The Dark Lord Needs a Fort!>
>You had lost it
>You didn't know what "it" was but between the huggy horde of undead, the perpetually sleeping black familiar, and the ghost of a hero who yelled at her body whenever it tried to hug you, you were certain that "it" had been lost
>You'd wanted to be a dark lord like the ones in your story books, bearded men dressed in all black who commanded decaying legions and rattling battalions, fearsome men who rode atop winged, rotting dragons and had ashen beards worthy of the most elder magician
>You know what you had? A goatee and a cute group of girls who mistook "slay" as "lay" which was making building your army extremely difficult because no one died
>Not on purpose at least, so far you'd been forced to raid cemeteries and wait for the elderly to die
>You needed to kick this funk, something to get the old master of darkness juices flown.
>It was time...for an *ADVENTURE*
>The only question what you should do
>Well, you discounted the wastes, it was far to brown and dusty for you to ever want to go back there
>You could always go and raid the forest nearby, surely it must have elves. What self respecting forest didn't have elves?
>You could also just run around in some tall grass for a while and see what tried to kill you, that was always fun.
>Luckily, you had an excellent resource on dungeons and adventures and after you picked up your perpetually sleeping black familiar, you went out to find her.
>"Hell no! Why should I help you!?" the ghostly paladin shouted as you found her, or, to be more accurate, her body.
>In a calm, courteous voice, you explained how you just wanted to help and had held a change of heart and WAS YOUR FREAKING MASTER YOU DOUBLE UNDEAD!
>"Well, if your going to be like that then I sure as hell aren't telling you." she said with a huff, confusing you as to how a ghost could huff without lungs.
>"Stooooop.....meeeeaaaan..." the slow voice of her zombified body moaned, trudging forward to lock you up in a hug. "Telllll...queeeeest."
>"Mean?!" the ghost asked incredulously, "He's the one who killed us! I mean, me...we?"
>Pronouns are hard where there's two of you.
>Her corpse didn't bite though, simply rubbing her face against your arm, and getting your robes a little dirty, while moaning "Waaaaarm", a zombies go to phrase for why they were doing something, weren't doing something, or just wanted to avoid a touchy topic.
>Quite brilliant actually, they may be smarter than you think.
>The ghost growled and locked her body in an angry glare, which the corpse ignored, before letting out a sigh.
>"Fine, if you want to do something so badly, there's some ruined mansion to the north-"
>Yes...
>"Filled with ancient treasures and horrible undead-"
>YES!
>"Passed the wasteland"
>Ye-NO!
>Your shout caught both of the undead hero off guard as you told her how there was no way you were heading back into that place.
>"Well, if you're too much of a pansy for that, there's an old fort to the south that is supposed to be run by bandits or something"
>Bandits? Excellent! No one would miss of few of them, and you could get a new base out of it in the process!
>It was time to gather the horde.
>....
>The horde was less impressive than you would have liked, consisting of ten unmarried, the concept still made your brain gag, zombies (including the hero's corpse), two skeletons, one of the ghoul sisters, zombie wurm, who was hugging your slumbering familiar like a teddy bear, your skeletal champion, and the hero's ghost traveling with you to ensure you didn't do anything to her body.
>Not that you would, a necromancer can never let himself be distracted by such petty things as breasts.
>That kind of thing is left for the bards.
>The dead were armored in your finest armor (which consisted of leather and Iron chest plates) and given your finest weapons (a few spears, a gaggle of axes, and a pack of maces) before your march to the south began, victory on the wind.
>South, as it turns out, can mean many things.
>It can mean anything from a few minutes to a few hours.
>For you, it was seven. Seven long hours trudging though the morning to midday sun while your forces moaned about "boooored" they were, zombie wurm and hero included.
>Hell, even your familiar had joined in, and she was sleeping for most the trip.
>Luckily your favorite, and only, undead warlord was there to regale you with tales of her exploits.
>Unfortunately, said exploits tended to end in bloody decapitations, cruel disembowelings, and, in one unfortunate soul's story, impalement with a horse.
>Now this wasn't that bad for you to hear, being a necromancer and all, but the zombies?
>You spent one, entire hour of your trip surrounded by a group of weeping undead who were cuddling and crying about "Why'd he dieeeeee?"
>You would have gotten out earlier but the wurm was especially clingy today and everyone else was too busy playing cards to help out.
>According to the sole ghoul, your Familiar had a mean poker face, as could be expected from one of your servants.
>Anyways, by the time you'd arrived at your destination, you were tired, sweaty, and irritable, although the last wasn't that much of a change.
>"That them?" Your ancient warlord asked, weapon at the ready and a sneer on her face "Sloppy lot by the looks of them."
>They're bandits, what do you expect?" the ethereal hero replied with a cocked eyebrow "They're newbie fodder and nothing more."
>"Weaaaaak" her body added, a chorus that was taken up by the others.
>Weak or not, you didn't care. Bodies are bodies and gold is gold.
>It was time to be the dark lord you'd always dreamed you could be.
>Awakening your familiar and putting her on your shoulders, where she promptly fell back asleep, you ordered your leagion forward.
>Silent as the grave you pictured it, a stone faced block of death and weapons to strike fear in any soldiers heart.
>And for once you got what you wanted, the girls deathly quiet as they marched forward. Soon there would be shrieks of terror, screams of fear as your undead minions lurched forward to slay those warm blooded fools....
>Yep, any moment now, horrified gasps would heard at your (not quite) putrid rabble.
>.....
>Why is there no screaming?
>your group walked across an open field in the late afternoon sun and not one fearful shout was uttered, the lot of you strolling up to the gotta wooden walls with nary a sound.
>Is it so hard to get a shriek of fear nowadays?
>Whatever, if they weren't going to scream on their own, then you'd just need to help them.
>Turning towards your ever loyal zombie wurm you gave her the order to "knock"
>The pale, gray scaled dragon nodded and drew back on of her nights fists before....knocking.
>There was no thunderous crash or splintering wood like you'd hoped she'd notice, instead there was a series of light raps as if knocking on a door.
>You, the ghost, and the skeleton champion all stared at her, aghast.
>"Whaaaaaat?" She asked, her moan defensive "Youuuu said tooooo knoooock."
>You shook, swearing to the blackest of pits that you were going to burn something do-
>"Who the hell 're you?" an irritated voice shouted as an unkempt man in dirty leather armor looked over the wall, apparently awoken from his nap.
>That angry look soon became one of surprise followed by fear as your hordde raised their hands to him moaned out as one.
>"Hiiiiiii"
>Faced by a small horde of armored undead, a zombified wurm, three skeletons, a ghoul, a ghost, and a robed man who looked as if he was having a stroke with a sleeping cat on his shoulder, the bandit made the sensible decision to run.
>Unfortunately, a sensible choice can be a wrong one for as soon as he disappeared from view, the wurm rushed forward and smashed through the gate, shattering wood as she chased after the man. His screams of panic awakening a few other slumbering bandits
>No more did blade and hammer crash in battle, instead hips smashed against hips and tongues fought more ferociously than any warriors.
>"I think we won this one master," the warlord said with a smirk, tossing an unconscious bandit to a lonely, pouting zombie "these scum weren't much but I got to shake the dust off these old bones."
>D-did she just make a pun? Did the bloodthirsty, battle hungry warrior you raised make a pun? DID SHE EVEN KILL ANYONE?
>A light weight bumped into you as the ghostly hero's body wrapped you in a hug, her spirit following not far behind.
>"Dooon't be maaaaad masteeeeer," the corpse groaned as she rubbed her cheek against your chest "I beeeeat threeee."
>"Would've beaten more if we were alive," the ghost grumbled, blushing as her body continued to snuggle against you "still, we took everyone out without killing. Pretty impressive for you."
>No....No No No...
>M-maybe the wurm got someone, she did smash through a wall.
>A whimpering, whining bandit was dropped at your feet, covered in dust, dirt, and mud.
>He was, to your surprise, the one you'd met at the wall.
>He was also, not to your surprise, completely unharmed.
>Physically at least.
>"Caaaaught hiiiim," the zombie wurm groaned, a smile on her face and an arrow in her stomach, "did I dooooo gooood?"
>You felt like you were going to scream, foam building at the corner of your lips and one eye twitching.
>The wurm noticed this and her expectant look became one of despair, tears, somehow, hanging at the corners of her eyes.
>"I did baaaaad?" She sadly moaned, shrinking slightly as if expecting to be hit "I'll doooo better neeext tiiiime."
>Oh lord she's crying, saddened at somehow failing you.
>Which she did because no one was dead but that wasn't the point, she looked like a puppy left out in the rain.
>With a sigh of disgust, you told her that she did good, giving her head a slow, awkward pat.
>Physical affection was something you were quite poor at.
>The zombie wurm didn't seem to mind this though, perking up like a flower and nuzzling you hand while giggle.
>Unfortunately, this caught the attention of the fallen hero's corpse who, to your amazement, pouted and demanded that you do her as well, slowly moaning "Meeee twooooo"
>This chorus was soon taken up by the two remaining, unmarried zombies, a third taking the gibbering bandit, who closed in for head pats and hugs while the rest of your force rode the bandits in a squelching, moaning mass.
>As the wurm joined in by coiling around your legs, you wanted to scream
>You did so, long and hard until your lungs were sore.

(Gathering Wood and A Quest For Skeletons)

>The work of a dark lord never ends, especially when it comes to building up one’s newly acquired castle.
>Ok, maybe it was a bit generous to call Fort Dark Skull a castle, especially when one considered that its walls were made of wood instead of black iron and it had no skulls on it for decoration, but it was certainly better than Fort Greenwood or whatever else the bandits had been calling it.
>Speaking of the bandits, they’d been successfully integrated into your dark horde through promises of dark glory as your unholy reavers and their….”Wives”, oh how you hated that term, incessant clinginess preventing them from leaving or stabbing you in the back.
>Perhaps it was best to ignore the method and simply enjoy the fact that you now have Fort Dark Skull, even if there were a few holes in the walls caused by an over exuberant wurm.
>Speaking of said wurm, she’d been unleashed upon the neighboring woods so that she could gather the finest timber for some improvements on your fortress of darkness, the ghost of the paladin and her body sent after it to keep her out of trouble.
>Maybe you could make the walls bigger or at a ritual room for sacrifices! You could even give your peasants back in town new houses to live in as your kingdom of evil grew!
>Oh! Maybe you could raise an architect or something and make them design your bastion of badness, although you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d omit the spikes because of how squeamish your undead seemed to be.
>Whatever, you can burn that bridge when you reach it, for now you could just sit back and plot your next evil action, the ancient, skeletal warlord beside you while your familiar slumbered in your lap, one of her black, pointed ears twitching every now and then.
>Would you enact a ritual which would wilt fields and fill the air with an ominous green mist which did nothing despite its fetid look?
>Nah, you still had living servants and you yourself still needed to eat, although you really wanted to change that in the future.
>Perhaps you could bathe the land beneath a tide of darkness? The sun forever trapped behind the coal black clouds that choked the skies?
>Maybe later, crops need sun to grow and you, again, need food to live.
>Things were getting cloudier though as every fifth day was partially hidden behind a few fluffy white balls of fluff.
>Indeed, what to do, what to d-
>A tremendous crash echoed through the area as another load of wurm cut lumber was dumped in the ever growing pile of wood to be cut, the noise making a few of the bandits turned guards jump while their wives, (egh), clutched them with a moan of fear.
>Or maybe it was a moan meant to comfort, one really couldn’t tell with these undead.
>Through the gate, left open so it wasn’t broken even more, came zombified earth dragon, gouging an ever deepening rent in the earth as she came to her lord for….headpats….
>You still didn't understand their fondness for the gesture but it kept them....happy? Maybe less clingy was a better answer.
>You’d anticipated this of course, although not before she’d smashed through another of the walls, so you’d moved yourself outside, and into the sun unfortunately, so that she could get to you with minimal property damage.
>As you gave the grey scaled girl’s head a pat, her face still as expressionless as it normally was, your most trusted guard and companion spoke, her voice its usual deadpan as she eyed the large pile of lumber
>”My lord, I would recommend against any having the lizard get more lumber,” the ancient warrior said, her gaze only briefly swapping to the affection hungry undead nuzzling lightly into your hand “I know you want more skeletons but working what few girls we have to the bone isn’t going to help”
>You don’t know if it was the mana keeping her doing strange things or if she was just more of herself after being awake so long but you swore she was starting to make puns, an odd turn considering how she’d been a cruel warlord in her past life who, if the carvings were accurate, owned a literal throne of skulls
>Something you may need to steal for yourself in the future
>You told the veteran soldier not to worry about it, it’s not like the dead can tire out.
>In fact, they don’t even need to eat! Why would you need to worry about working a few of them extra hard?
>”Tha-yawn-at actually isn’t true master,” the feline familiar in your lap murmured as her green eyes opened, roused from her slumber by the mighty noise the new wood arrival had made “every undead being is needs spirit energy, it repairs their bodies and is what allows them to move around. If they go too long then they’ll go feral and claim it for themselves”
>What crap is this? Isn’t that what your mana does?
>”Only for the unmarried ones master,” the creature yawned as she slowly stretched herself out until she hung from your lap, the wurm looking at her with something that could’ve been irritation as your hand stopped patting her and attention turned to the little cat girl in your lap “those lucky enough to find a husband are using him as their mana source now”
>Hmmmm, well that may explain why you had so much energy now ada- did she just say lucky?
>”Oy, Necromancer!” a loud, irritated voice came as the pale, armored spirit of the paladin flew through the wooden walls, derailing your train of thought “Your oversized lizard may have just caused a problem.”
>You sighed and asked the ghost what she meant, already feeling the headache building.
>”Seems that we’ve got elves in the woods and dumb dumb over there just ripped up their holy tree or some shit,” the former holy warrior growled, giving the dead drake a cross look “they didn’t take it well.”
>You asked how ‘not well’ they’d taken it.
>”You can check out slow po- my body when sh- I get back here,” the wraith sighed, watching the gate as a moaning, armored form with a face much like hers trudged in “let’s just say that you better be ready for a fight.”
>Oh come on, it can’t be that ba- HOW MANY ARROWS ARE IN THERE?!
>The ghost’s zombified corpse was FILLED with arrows, turning the girl into a veritable pin cushion, not that she seemed to mind.
>”Elves, meeeeeeaaaan,” the blonde body groaned as she strode up to you, uncaring of how many of the projectiles were stuck in there “chaaaaaase oooooof.”
>You gave the zombie’s hair a ruffle, her spirit telling you to ‘back off’ when you offered her one, and a healthy dose of negative energy to get her back in top form, hefting the familiar, who’d fallen back asleep, over your shoulder as you rushed to check out the tree.
>You wanted to take on the elves but now was too early, FAR too early to take on any sizable force of the knife eared creatures. Maybe you could bring it back and get it buried, I’m sure it wasn’t a tree that was too…terribly…special….
>The tree was massive, twice as tall as the watch towers at your fort and bedecked with prayers and hymns the elves had weaved in its leaves. It hadn’t just been uprooted either, its trunk smashed at the bottom where it looked to have been snapped free.
>You couldn’t even manage an angry look at the situation, instead just giving wurm a questioning look and wondering what could’ve possessed her to grab such a thing.
>”Yooooou waaaaant biiiiig treeee,” the dragon corpse moaned, still pouting at the creature asleep on your shoulder “waaaaas biggggesst treeeeeee”
>”She has you there my lord,” the skeleton berserker chimed in as she watched you fume, “like it or not we’ve got elves and I doubt we have enough bodies to fight them off.”
>She was right there, you had maybe sixty or seventy undead you could gather to chase off the elves and if this tree was anything to go by then you were going to need many, MANY more to keep the tree huggers back.
>That meant you needed a graveyard or a battlefield, something you were depressingly low on.
>To you shock though, the solution to your problem came not from the skeletal barbarian or familiar this time, but the again from the ethereal paladin.
>”Well….I may have something for you Necromancer,” the ghost said, a small frown on her face “but I’m only doing this because if you go down, my bodies going down with you.”
>Hope bloomed in your dark heart as she told you about the tomb of the five hundred, a group of loyal soldiers of the church who’d held the line against one of the demon lord’s centuries past.
>”I don’t know if it’s enough to turn the tide but if it stops those pointy eared bitches from destroying my body, who needs to STOP RUBBING AGAINST YOU, then it’s worth it.” she said, giving the corpse rubbing her cheek on yours an angry glare “If I left it up to you then sh- I’d get destroyed.”
>Her body stuck out its tongue and went back to nuzzling against you, something the wurm joined in on, as you gave the ghost a wry smirk and an overly done “Thank you”, taking more than a little pleasure in her scowl.
>”Yeah, laugh it up Necromancer but getting into the tomb isn’t going to be easy,” the specter growled, although you couldn’t tell if her body or your smile incensed her more “the tomb’s guarded night and day by loyal soldiers of the church and every hallway is armed with traps and trials to test the faithful, the elves may not even get a shot at you.”
>Trials? Challenges? Traps?! OH be still your beating heart! Too long had you been limited to petty trials of combat, it was finally time to show off that a dark lord can have brains and not just brawn!
>”I don’t think that’s going to frighten him off paladin,” your skeletal protector chuckled as she saw you face, an uncharacteristically happy smile placed there for all to see, “if anything it’s just making him more eager to go.”
>”Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be gone in a moment,” the ghost smirked, as she flew in close “I haven’t told him where it is yet.”

> - - - -

>Why? Why, why, why, why, why?
>Why is it that every time you need something it’s ALWAYS in the damned wastelands.
>Need iron for weapons?
>Wastelands
>Dragon skeleton as a centerpiece for your dark legions?
>Back to the wastelands!
>Want some bodies to raise so you can chase off the elves your zombified wurm had pissed off?
>Hope you like dirt, dust, and the sun beating down on you because you’re heading back into that hellhole!
>Just like the spirit had said, your mood had soured in less than a second, your smile reverting back into a grumpy frown as you once more walked through the land of brown and bloom.
>Sure, the tomb of the fallen didn’t require you to go too far into the wastes, and your former paladin guide cut down on aimless wandering, but it still didn’t change the fact that this place was terrible.
>Not even adding the skeletons of two lost travelers, killed by thirst if you had to guess, to your party raised your spirits, a dour cloud hanging over you until the sun sunk below the horizon and your spirit guide brought your party to a halt.
>”Tomb’s just up the cliff there,” the ethereal woman told your group, one gauntleted hand pointing to the top of a sheer cliff face, “better be ready for a fight, I hear that the guards are crusade veterans who can put even our most experienced soldiers to shame and can defeat the demon lords dullahan knights with but a single swing of their sw-“
>”You talking about the guy pissing over the side?” your trusty body guard asked as, like she said, a man in shiny looking plate walked to the edge, removed his codpiece, and began to urinate in front of everyone.
>You never knew a ghost could blush like that before, a lovely shade of gray creeping across her face while her body, armored hand holding yours, moaned a disgusted sounding “Groooooss.”
>Oh, you could already feel the expectations lowering amongst your party, along with the curious gaze of that tawny manticore who’d inexplicably tracked you down again.
>Seriously, every time you’d come here she’d be there, watching you from an overlook or, like she was currently doing, peering out from a scraggly shrub as you went about your business.
>And currently, that business was figuring out how to get up a flat cliff face.
>”Your first trial will be the test of faith,” the paladin explained, showing off the seemingly flat side of the cliff “although the side of this mountain appears to be flat, there are handholds that only true believers can find, letting them cli-“
>It was the wurm’s turn to interrupt the dead holy warrior now, groaning out “Haaang ooooon” as she slithered up to the cliff, her serpentine tail warping you up in a vice like hug as the paladin’s corpse and your skeleton warlord mounted her back like she was a horse
>You’d barely managed to shift your slumbering familiar from your shoulders to your arms before the wurm’s fist slammed into the rock with a resounding crunch, ruining the test of faith as she made her own hand holds up the side of the mountain.
>It seems that the test of faith was never intended for wurms, the trial becoming trivial in the face of the earth dragon’s super strength, much to the ghost’s shock.
>You didn’t care, you were here to test your intellect, not your faith or strength.
>It didn’t take long for your underlings climbing to attract attention though, a familiar, and now pants wearing, figure returning to look down at you with a look of surprise.
>”What the hell’re you doing?!” An elderly sounding voice shouted down as your advance continued, the zombie and skeleton clinging to the wurm as she passed the halfway mark “You can’t pass the test like that! It’s cheating or something!”
>Don’t care! Necromancer!
>”Nekomancer? The hell is that?”
>NO! NECROMANCER!
>”I heard ya the first time!” the man shouted back at you, leaning over the cliff “I was asking what you WERE!”
>”I think that’s a cat sorcerer or somethin’” another, equally ancient sounding voice called as a helmetless head with a bald head and beard as white as snow peered down at you, “See! ‘e’s even got a cat in ‘is arms…I think…”
>The slumbering familiar twitched in your arms at the old men discussing her but evidently that wasn’t enough to wake her, although you weren’t surprised considering she was sleeping through the grinding, crunching noises. Instead the girl just curled up in your chest and let out a tiny, rumbling purr as you held her tight, doing your best to keep her from slipping free.
>”W-what are they doing?” the ghost hissed as the two, quite elderly, guards discussed what you’d shouted up at them “They were supposed to be great warriors! Loyal soldiers to the church and faith!”
>”And they probably were twenty years ago,” the skeleton called, maintaining her grip on the wurm with just her legs as she secured her weapons, “guess some of the bones were looking for aren’t just inside the tomb eh?”
>There it was again! She has to be doing this on purpose.
>Sadly, further investigation was halted as yet another voice joined the men above you.
>”Nah that’s a little girl right there!” the man, a squatter specimen with a wispy gray beard, shouted, ignoring you like the rest “Don’t know why she’s got cat ears though….must be a member of them cults or something.”
>”A cat cult!? I though we cleared all of them in the purge of ‘16” the first warrior asked as he became more engrossed in the conversation than your wurm reaching the top “Right nasty they were, got a buncha scars from those claws they ‘ad.”
>”Nah, those thing’s had a lot more fur than this one does, kept tellin’ me to get milk for them too!” blading paladin two replied, “Never felt more fun chasin’ them off than I did that da-“
>A final crunch announced your party’s arrival at the top, the warlord hopping off the wurm as if she were dismounting a horse.
>The body of the paladin let in a….less than graceful manner.
>By which you meant she slumped off and landed face first on the ground, her spirit letting out a moan of embarrassment to match her corpse’s groaned “Oooowwwww.”
>”Oh come on, that was on purpose!” the shade berated as he body lay unmoving on the ground “There’s no way you cou- you’re fishing for attention aren’t you?”
>If she was, the body didn’t say so, still laying there as if expecting something.
>She’d need to wait to wait on that front as the wurm had yet to release you, instead wrapping you up in her coils and asking you if she’d “Doooone goooood.”
>Considering this progress was bringing you closer to leaving this place, along with the fact that she’d just hauled four of you up a good fifty feet of solid stone, you let her know that she had done good, although the headpat would need to wait as the trio of crusty crusaders seemed to have finally noticed your arrival.
>”Well fair nekomancer, although its quite unsportsmanlike, it seems that you've passed the trial of faith." the third, bearded man explained as the other two took their positions next to him, ceremonial halberds drawn, although it was more for supporting them than intimidation "It seems that the ol' 'Faith in your friends' clause lets this sorta thing get by."
>Friends may have been a bit of a strong word but you were willing to let it slide this time, although you dearly wished the wurm would let go.
>You'd yet to move passed the necessity of breathing and it was more than a little difficult with the coils wrapped around you.
>The old men didn't seem to pay you nor your quite dead compatriots any heed though, instead going through their speech as you fought to free yourself and the paladin's corpse stayed on the ground, moaning pathetically every now and then.
>"As such, you and yer friends are free ta test yer skills in the Tomb of the Fallen!" baldy said in his most boisterous tone, sounding so hammy that you would've thought he was a P'Orc "Now go forth and find yerselves some glory in the-"
>"Now just wait here a minute," the first soldier, the only one with a helmet, interrupted in an offended sounding tone "I thought this was the Sepulcher of the Saints! Not the Tomb of the Fallen!"
>"Your both wrong!" Number three chimed in on cue, his growl grabbing both of them "It's the Crypt of the Crusaders! Haven't either of you been paying attention?"
>You kind of stopped paying attention after that as it devolved into the trio bickering with each other once again, each of them arguing about what the proper title of the place was and how the other two were nincompoops, ninnies, or, and you had to give them credit for this one, as thick skulled as the bones inside.
>Seeing as nothing important, or dangerous, was going to happen, your bodyguard strode over to see how your attempts to struggle free from the wurm were going.
>The answer was not well.
>"Need some help my lord?" she asked with a grin on her face, red eyes watching you squirm in the grasp of your zombie servant "or do you think you can worm your way out of it."
>You felt the urge to scream but you fought it down, polity ordering the warlord to get you free so you could enter the damn tomb and get your skeletons.
>Still, if there was any solace to be taken at this moment, it was the fact that the ghost of the paladin had curled up next to her zombie as the revelation that the "Powerful, unbeatable warriors" were nothing more than a bunch of doddering old men who probably didn't even know what day of the weak it was, sobbing silently as her corpse, still laying on the ground, gave her translucent shoulder a pat with a moaned "Theeeeeere theeeeeere."
>Whatever, at least no one was screaming.