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By Russell Davis

Who hasn't dreamed of being an evil overlord?

contemporary best myth authors have added fourteen stories that run the gamut from funny to severe, delusion to technology fiction. bound to attract role-playing avid gamers, fable enthusiasts, and megalomaniacs who are looking to rule the world.

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My attractive, appealing hair! ” The dungeon door screeched and groaned on its hinges because the troll who served as Lord Belg’s leader turnkey entered. He chuckled with foul glee while he observed the mare’s nest that Prince Lorimel’s struggles had made up of his stunning tresses. “Awwww, diddums elfy-welfy gettums purty hair all snarly-warlied? ” he requested in a voice like treacle and carpet tacks. (His penchant for taunting Lord Belg’s prisoners with child speak used to be why the Evil One had no longer had to hire a full-time torture-master nor, every so often, an executioner. ) “Izzums elfy-poo gonna cwy now his hair’s gotta move all snippy-snip bye-bye? ” “Here, now! ” Shackled as he used to be, Gudge lunged on the troll. “Doan’ ’ee be sayin’ such vicious merciless issues t’ me grasp, nay! We been via worse’n this, him ’n’ me, an’ enable me inform ’ee, simply gimme a bucket o’ water, a fistful o’ soapwort, an’ a gentle cream-rinse afore ye is going talkin’ ’bout cuttin’ off his Worship’s hair, aye! ” The troll shield blinked, greatly surprised through his first war of words with an individual who had a extra tense speech development than himself. “Hunh! ” he snorted. “Save yer breath; ’tain’t up t’ me if yer worthy grasp will get shorn or no longer. Lord Belg’s daughter’s heard inform that there’s a pointy-eared princeling locked up in Daddy’s dungeon and now ’tis yet a question o’ time ahead of she comes down right here to . . . look after him. Heh, heh, heh. ” Up till this aspect, Prince Lorimel were doing his most sensible to disregard the cumbersomely picturesque dialog among Gudge and the shield. Now, in spite of the fact that, he perked up the aforementioned pointy ears and took a prepared and unexpected curiosity it what had simply been acknowledged. “A daughter? ” He tensed like a well-bred poultry puppy in an aviary. “Did I pay attention you assert that Lord Belg has a daughter? ” The troll turnkey smirked and gave the elf prince the once-over prior to replying, “An’ what’s it to ye if’n he do, Snoogums? Or do the very suggestion o’ His Aweseome an’ Appalling Vileness doin’ the Goblin Twist-an’-Tickle placed ye off yer feed? ” “Doin’ the what? ” Gudge desired to understand. Prince Lorimel made an impatient sound. “The carnal act of which yon odious troll speaks is that which we Lofty Elves extra delicately confer with as ‘making the bogle with backs. ’ ” “Nah, thass no longer what I suggest. ” The troll shook his head. “ ’Cos Lord Belg did make a bogle wi’ backs as soon as, merely the bad factor di’n’t comprehend was once he comin’ or goin’ an’ so we had to—” “Ohhhh! ” mild dawned on Gudge of Willowstone-Thickly, albeit a foggy, seriously overcast gentle. “I will get it now. You suggest Lord Belg used to be doin’ the Haystack Ramble; the Weasel leap; the 3 Apples in a Gunnysack Shimmy; the bare Morris Dancers—” “Gudge, close up! ” Prince Lorimel shouted so loudly that light eco-friendly veins stood out in excessive reduction from his alabaster epidermis. “Or can we need to have one other little discuss oversharing? ” “Scoop me hole fer a pun’kin pie, nay, ” Gudge responded in haste. “I ain’t obtained th’ bruises healed up from th’ final ‘little speak’ we had, bless yer gracious Grace’s robust correct arm.

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