I Like the Spikes

Arklebar, Dark Lord of Berenir, King of Uburia, and Conqueror of Kordrun drummed his fingers on the armrest. Before him lay the royal armory, where his smiths were putting the final touches on his new armor.

I grow impatient.

Instantly, a smith was at his side. It is almost ready, Lord.

I had better be, else you will be smithing left-handed.

The smith stared up at Arklebar. My Lord?

You will smith left-handed. Arklebar made a hammering motion. Smithing. With your left hand. Because Ill cut off your right.

But I am left-handed, Lord.

Arklebar stared at the trembling smith. Youre not terribly bright, are you?

No, Lord.

It is ready, Dread Master! cried out another smith from across the room.

Rising, Arklebar strode across the smithy as tools and apprentices were hastily pulled from his path and beheld his new armor.

Arklebar frowned. Well, he said, put it on me. NOW!

Hands undid his cloak and lifted the crown from his head. Even more hands helped him into the greaves and sabatons. The rest of the leg armor was quickly added, as the vambraces were strapped to his forearms. The breast and back plates were affixed and then the huge shoulder pieces. Lastly, his helmet was lowered onto his head and a large mirror was wheeled before him.

Arklebar looked at himself. The armor was massive and black, with three foot spikes coming off the shoulders. The breastplate featured a huge, snarling dragon maw and great horns, fully six inches thick at the base and two-feet long, adorned his helmet.

The Dark Lord turned, first one way and then another. He struck a pose, swaying slightly under the weight of all the metal. Does this armor, he asked, his voice echoing deep within the helm, make me look fat?

No, Lord!

Absolutely not, Lord!

You look magnificent, Dread Master!

Good. Arklebar turned slowly. I am pleased. You all may live.

There was a chorus of thank yous.

Yes, yes, I am wonderful. The Dark Lord turned and stomped towards the door, enjoying the great clash of metal that sounded as he walked. The door was thrown open before him and he marched through, only to be knocked flat on his back as he entered the doorway.

There was absolute silence.

What happened? Arklebar asked.

A smith appeared above him. The spikes, Lord. They . . . ummmm . . . wont fit through the doorway.

I like the spikes.

Yes, Lord.

Very well. Have all the doorways in the castle widened immediately. No, all the doorways in the kingdom. Any building that has a doorway I cannot fit through will be burned to the ground with the owners still inside. And if I hear about this incident, I will have everyone here put to death.

Of course, Lord.

And help me up.

Yes, Lord.

Cheers,
-Jason