Tired Of Death

The Overlord held up a finger and a flame sprouted from the end of it, which he used to light the cigar he was holding. He inhaled deeply, savouring the flavour A moment later he frowned, as if hearing something annoying.

"Go ahead then," he said to the air.

There was a pop, and a small demonic form appeared before him. The Overlord blew smoke at it.

"I found…" Ichabod suddenly cut off, coughing in the middle of the cloud. "Hey! Cut that out!"

The Overlord chuckled to himself, taking p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e in the others distress, and took another puff. "You have a report for me imp?"

Ichabod scowled, but spoke again. "I found your wonderful evil agent half buried in the ground. Seems Dreth pushed him off a cliff."

Now it was the Overlords turn to scowl. "What's wrong with my minions these days? There was a day when Evil was a force to be feared, now I have difficulty finding creatures who can gut a small innocent child properly."

The imp nodded his head sympathetically.

"Was he alive?" The Overlord flicked ash on Ichabods' head.

"Just about, gave me some spiel about carrying on the hunt, but he couldn't even stand up."

The Overlord sighed. "Very well, I think we should put some pressure on our quarry." He snapped his fingers and a bundle of papers appeared next to his servant. "Take those and distribute them around the area. Perhaps a little competition will spur our Anti-Paladin on."

The imp bowed, took the papers and vanished again.

Taking another pull on his cigar, the Overlord sat and thought for a while, the smoke curled around him, twisting into strange and disturbing shapes. His break didn't last long, as a cold wind suddenly swept through the room.

He frowned. Now what? Some days it seemed like every entity and demon in the Dark planes wanted to pop in and have a chat.

"Who's there?" he asked out loud.

"You Haven't Recovered Her Yet." The voice echoed around the chamber, resonating Evil and, incidentally, putting his cigar out.

"Hey! I was enjoying that!"

"When Can I Expect Her To Be Returned?" The voice ignored his protest. Frost began to form on the walls.

"I am working on it, she's still alive and healthy isn't she?"

"No Thanks To You And Your So Called Protection." The voice grew colder, if that was possible.

The Overlord pulled his robes about him and glanced significantly at the fireplace, which obeyed his will and burned higher. "She will be recovered, don't worry."

"She Had Better Be. We Had A Deal. The Apocalypse Depends Upon The Four. If One Falls, All Fall. Should You Fail You Will Feel The Wrath Of True Evil." With a final gust of absolute cold, the presence withdrew.

"Some devils are too full of themselves," muttered the Overlord. He looked around and grimaced. The fire was still and unmoving, glittering a strange blue-orange colour

It had frozen solid.