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was fun. “Rock fell from sky, and still need to hear from Finger of King. Can hear about rainbows later.” Darby’s face fell, and Bert felt a little bad. “Will get to petition. Bert promise.”

That perked his advisor up, so Bert felt safe to move on to the next one. “Anything to report, Brotep?”

“Nah.” The mummy stared down at his smartphone. “Just keep scooping litter, and waitin’ for someone to show up.”

“They gotta catch me before they can get to you.” Darby began dancing a happy little jig. “I’ve never been caught. That movie was a lie. Nothing but stereotypes, I tell you.”

Bert didn’t know what movie he was referring to, but nodded patiently as he didn’t want anyone to feel unheard. Finally he turned to his favorite advisor, the slug he’d met on his first day in town.

“Finger of King,” Bert intoned. “Give report.” Having a spymaster was one of the very best parts of being a dark lord.

“Well.” The slug blinked its eye stalks sheepishly. “I mean…it’s taken me three days to get from the moat to here, so if anything has happened in that time I am unaware of it.”

He wasn’t a very good spymaster, but that was okay. Spying on people was rude, so best to have someone not very good at it.

“What about Paradise?” Bert rose up in his seat. He hadn’t seen his mum in ages.

“Ah.” The slug rose up to his full height, about six inches. “Your mum-ness has refused the royal invitation. She said, “Tell Bert no reason to come to stupid humans. Send more garbage. Come home on Sundays.”

“Ah, your dark lordship,” Bumbledork interjected, “I understand following formalities and such, but perhaps we can discuss the reason we’ve come together today? The strange glowing rock?”

Bert absently pet Righty as Boberton pressed into his hand. He used his other hand to rap the gavel against the table. “Bert now discuss big sky rock. First, who knows what rock is? Or where it come from?”

Answering one question might answer the other, or so Bert hoped at least. Interesting things didn’t happen very often, and he dearly longed to know more about the strange flaming rock.

His advisors eyed each other blankly for some time. There was an awful lot of blinking, and the occasional cough or throat clearing. Hmm. They’d need him to do that leadership thing, he supposed.

“Bert want to know about rock.” He turned to Bumbledork. “You, great wizard. Can you use magic to see rock?”

“Ah! A scrying spell.” The ancient wizard straightened his spectacles and smiled out from his snowy beard. Well, mostly snowy. The part that dragged on the ground had become quite brown and fuzzy. “I, ah, I don’t actually know any of those. Other members of the OLP were quite adept at divination, but now they are quite dead, so, we’re rather lacking in that department.”

A booming knock came from the door, and Bert blinked in that direction. The door stood open, but Sir Patrick the Death Knight politely rapped on the wood as he stepped into the room. “Your lordship, we’ve received a report from the high elves. The stone has impacted in Keeble Forest, and they say it is causing chaos. They request whatever aid you can send.”

“Bumbledork.” Bert rapped his gavel. Not for any particular reason. Perhaps he could bring some nails to the next meeting and hammer them into the table. He glanced up and realized they were staring at him. “Bumbledork, go to forest, get rock, bring back.”

“Well, I would,” the wizard protested, “but that sounds rather dangerous. Perhaps there are some children we could send. I’ve worked with as young as ten, and find they’re quite able. Very few casualties, and there are always more children about.”

Bert frowned at the wizard. He certainly didn’t seem good so much as expedient. Sending the wizard would be a bad idea. No, he needed someone smarter. Someone brave.

He needed…himself, he realized. No one else here could be trusted to find the rock, and if he sent someone, and waited, what if they failed? He’d have to send someone else.

Besides, castle life had already grown stale. He missed following adventurers in the wild, and raking up copper. And he could bring Boberton, who would keep him safe from any threats. Plus Bert was a dark lord and had all sorts of power now.

It was time for an adventure.

“Bert will go,” he decided aloud. “Will take Boberton, and brave scary forest to find rock. Finger of King in charge while Bert is away.”

The slug slumped in obvious relief. “Oh, thank the moat. I’m so happy I don’t have to go back right away.”

Bert nodded sagely. Good leaders took care of their people. “Brotep, bring slug food, please.”

“Sure.” The mummy didn’t look up from his smartphone.

“Okay, Bert go now. You protect Tomb. Remember, no killing!” Bert made a grr face to make sure they knew he was serious, but no one seemed especially intimidated. He hoped they listened.

Adventurers could get hurt if they weren’t careful.

Bert hopped out of the booster seat, and onto Boberton’s back. “Okay, boy! Let’s start adventure.”

4

The Moist Mountains

Bert decided to head out immediately rather than wait for another morning, and so found himself atop his war cart, an upgraded version of the original wagon he’d once constructed.

One of the very best parts of being dark lord was that he could acquire whatever building supplies he wanted. That included everything from springs to nails, and so his cart was impressive indeed.

The big black wagon had spikes along the outside, except for the area where he threw the ladder over the side to reach the ground. The wheels had been made from tough rubber that would do well on rocky forest floors, and he’d added enough pillows that bouncing along was actually rather fun.

Boberton had already been cinched up the wagon, and stood proudly, ready to begin their next adventure. He really did make the best of friends, and Bert silently thanked the shopkeeper who’d

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