I studied necromancy for forty years. I raised an army of a thousand undead. I had a MONOLOGUE prepared. ...the bard interrupted it to ask if I was single. I built my fortress on a mountain of dread with traps in every hallway, cursed runes widely spread a puzzle lock of ancient and diabolical design they solved it by just kicking the door a second time I sent my champion, undead and renowned they rolled to intimidate him — he was spellbound my lieutenant, feared across eleven planes surrendered to the halfling and asked to join campaigns I AM THE DARKNESS, I AM THE DOOM I've been monologuing alone in this room YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SUFFER, SUPPOSED TO FALL instead you ate my rations and redecorated the hall The prophecy said heroes would come to end my reign I pictured paladins in silver, warriors of flame instead I got a goblin who "invested in real estate" a wizard who keeps Feather Fall-ing off the gate They skipped my tragic backstory cutscene — twice they killed my second-in-command over loaded dice my darkest secret, written in blood on ancient stone — they used it as a coaster for a cup they didn't own I AM THE DARKNESS, I AM THE DOOM I've been monologuing alone in this room YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SUFFER, SUPPOSED TO FALL instead you ate my rations and redecorated the hall I had a theme. I had a THEME. Tragic. Elegant. Morally complex. The DM spent three sessions on my lore. The rogue said — and I quote — "can I pickpocket the final boss mid-speech?" HE ROLLED A TWENTY-THREE. I lost my phylactery and my pocket watch. I offered them the world, I offered them a deal dominion over kingdoms, power you could feel a choice with consequences, darkness versus light — they asked if they could keep my castle. I said fine. Good night. Yes. They kept the castle. They turned my throne room into a tavern. They hired my skeleton archers as bouncers. The undead dragon works the door on weekends. I AM THE DARKNESS, I AM THE DOOM now I pay rent in my own throne room YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TREMBLE, SUPPOSED TO KNEEL instead I'm doing open mic on Tuesday — unpaid — for real Maybe I was the problem maybe my plan had a few flaws maybe threatening the world attracts the wrong kind of applause But somewhere in a tavern that used to be my lair there's a party laughing loudly and I... kind of wish I was there The bard wrote a song about me. It's... actually quite good. I hate that it's good. It's called "The Villain's Lament." ...they named a goat after me too.
