A Week Later...

You stand in the entry to the monastery, surrounded by Orc warriors and bandits in an impressive display of ****. You watch as a procession of garrisoned human soldiers approaches you, with Lord Whitley at the head of it. Given that violent retribution would almost certainly lead to the deaths of your hostages, Lord Whitley attacking you would lead to an uprising from these holy people. Hell, even if they wouldn't, Lord Whitley seems to be religious enough that he's willing to surrender his county just to protect them. You're ready at a moment's notice for betrayal, to slit your captives throats and to fight the garrison, which could lead to either of you being destroyed, but with very heavy losses. Hopefully, it doesn't come to that.

You stare forward as the Lord approaches. The man seems nervous, if not terrified.

"You're the one they call Abaddon," he says nervously.

"Abaddon isn't a nickname or title. It's just my name. I feel "Master" is a more accurate title, seeing as you'll be surrendering to me."

Lord Whitley pauses, staring at the ground. "I'm going to need assurances."

"Go on, then," you say.

"I want promises. You need to promise me that your army of orcs and thieves will commit no crimes against my people that you can prevent. My family and I must be given an assurance that our wealth will not be plundered, and we will not be harmed..."

You listen for far too long to endless stupid requests. None of them are ridiculous. Given that you don't want to die and couldn't really give a fuck what happens to the Lord or his family, you nod as he talks. Eventually he shuts up, and you realize he's finished with his requests.

"Fine," you say, nodding. "I'll agree. Ready to surrender, then?"

"I've had one of my judges write up this document. It will transfer my powers to you, and have you to agree to everything I just asked."

"Whatever," you said. "This whole conquering business has gotten real boring."

Lord Whitley takes a scroll of paper out of his trousers, offering it out to you. You take it from him, as one of your bandits offers him a quill. You hand it to Lilith, who bursts into existence beside you as the Lord and his soldiers recoil.

"It's solid," Lilith says, after a minute.

"Perfect," you say, giving her a gentle pat on the ass. "Thank you."

You sign the paper, before handing it back to Lord Whitley with the quill.

"I'm not signing until I see the clergy."

"Fine, bring them out," you shout.

The doors to the monastery open, as the fat priest, followed by the dozen and a half nuns, all wearing their freshly washed robes, looking fresh-faced and well-fed, march out. They stare at the ground, ashamed of themselves.

"Happy?"

"Very," Lord Whitley says.

"Perfect. Do I have the loyalty of your men? They are sworn to serve their lord, after all."

You pause, but after a moment's hesitation, the soldiers begin to drop their weapons.

"They're retired. They won't fight you, but they won't fight for you," Lord Whitley says.

"So be it," you shrug.

You take a deep breath, staring up at the sky. Like that, you've been given control of the county.

"This went well, right?" you say, grinning as you feel truly powerful.

"We're going to need someone to govern this land for you. A Dark Lord like yourself can't be bothered with such nonsense as land disputes between farmers," Lilith says.

"Who's going to govern?" you ask. "Any suggestions."

"One of my lieutenants, Amsden, was in charge of most of the organizing of guard patrols supply trains and generally was one of the key factors in taking over this area," Morrigan says. "Awarding his loyalty would be a good idea, plus he should be capable enough," Morrigan points out.

"Tell me about him."

"Horatio Amsden was a soldier in the Royal Army of Man for two tours, one vs Elven forces in a border dispute, the other repelling pirate raids," Morrigan says. "He was discharged for insubordination, and took up the bandit life. The fucker nearly slashed my throat open when his boys fought my Bloody Hand, but I bashed his head in and made him join me. He's a loyal, stubborn cunt with at least some bit of a brain."

"Or..." Lilith says. "We could keep Whitley in charge. After that display he's not going to betray you, plus it'll mean they'll be no loss of efficiency in the changeover of power, or in teaching a bandit lieutenant how to govern a country."