Torn from a realm she had called home, the demoness found herself in a strange Land, on her knees, a sharp pain tearing through her skull – she had heard of this realm before, had heard of those like her being bound to the service of demonologists and necromancers for dark ends but had never seen the Land itself. A woman hard as iron stood before her, eyes dark and malicious.

“I have summoned you to this realm via the Hell Rift below this Keep, succubus. You are bound to me.”

Sharra stood and tried to dash from the room.

“STOP!” the cold woman screamed. Sharra felt herself compelled to obey. Her mind tore at her limbs, as though screaming at herself to run, to get away from this woman, though she simply could not.

“You are bound to me, demoness,” the woman repeated, “there is nothing you can do about this until I’ve freed you personally. I will do so after, and not a minute before, you have completed your task. We will work together on this task, though we must do it discretely. Do you understand?”

Sharra stared at the woman, defiant.

“Answer,” the woman commanded.

“I do,” Sharra replied between gritted teeth.

“My name is Meredith. You serve me. Our goal is simple, though that does not mean it will be easy. We must be careful, we must be clandestine, we must not under any circumstances reveal our plans to anyone. Nod if you understand.”

Sharra felt herself nod.

“Would you know what I would have you do?”

Sharra shook her head, “I would kill you where you stand, witch.”

Meredith laughed aloud, cackling and cawing like a mad raven when suddenly she stopped. “Slit your own throat,” Meredith commanded.

Sharra fought with all her will, her arms trembling and shaking. Despite her efforts, her hand fell to the blade at her hip and drew the knife, haltingly. Slowly, slowly, the knife came to her throat, pressing the cool steel to her perfect gray-blue skin.

“Stop,” Meredith commanded.

Sharra threw the knife out the window, shattering the glass, screaming her rage and fear. “I WILL END YOU, WOMAN,” Sharra screamed, her eyes reddening and her face contorting with rage.

“Perhaps, demon,” Meredith said coolly. “Though not today, it would seem. Your target is this…thing – he can scarcely be called a man any longer. He is a fiend, a weak-willed husk of a man who preys on the souls of those weaker than him. He cannot help himself – he needs it as he needs oxygen.” Meredith swirled her hands aloft as an image of the shade, Hautus, came into being before them. “He is the right hand of the Dark Lord. You have heard of the Dark Lord, no doubt, even in your own realm. Nod if you have.”

Sharra nodded, slowly. “You would have me kill this shade?”

“Let me finish,” Meredith snapped. “Nothing so puerile. Our goal is the Dark Lord himself.”

Sharra’s heart stopped, ever so briefly, and she felt as though the room would close in on her any second. She attempted to run once more, to dive from the window, but before she could make it –

“Stop there, succubus,” Meredith cooed. “You see how serious this is. The truth is, I need you. Hautus will not let me near him – which is smart but inconvenient…but, he has shown a… propensity toward those such as yourself.

“I would have you seduce him, succubus. I would have you learn the secrets he has – all of them, so as not to miss any – and I would have you learn what he knows about the Dark Lord’s power. You will not speak of me, you will not reference me, you will not even think of me in his presence. This must be done naturally or it will arouse his considerable paranoia. You must make him need you the way he needs his fix. Only then will it be anywhere near what we could call ‘safe’ for you to bring this up to him. He is the key to the Dark Lord. If anyone knows how to kill him, it is Hautus. It is up to you to find out what he knows. Nod if you understand.”

Sharra nodded. She found herself slowly becoming intrigued by the task ahead of her.

“As I say, I need you. I will not let your service go unrewarded. If you would live here upon completion of our task, you will live well. Alternatively, should you wish to return to your realm I have… ways of making that happen for you. Let it not be said that Meredith is not generous,” the woman snorted haughtily, turning to leave.

“Before I do this…” Sharra began hesitantly. Meredith interrupted:

“You are in no position to make demands, demoness. You will do it because you cannot act otherwise while I hold the chains to your soul.”

“I will not survive without a source of… food.”

“Oh?” Meredith’s eyebrows raised inquisitively, her voice pitching up. “Just what have I brought upon this world, then? Dare I ask what this 'food' is you speak of?”

“I require demons...”

“Absolutely not.”

“…for sustenance.”

“Well... a succubus who feeds on other demons? Do succubi not feed on humans? You have plenty of food available to you here, have no fear.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Indeed? Quite an appetite you have then, demoness,” Meredith winked.

“This is the condition of my aid – not a demand, but making you aware of my needs.”

After a long pause Meredith responded. “Very well, you shall have what you need,” she said reluctantly. “You shall have limited and closely monitored access to the Hell Rifts. Pray you do not take advantage of my kindness in this. Now go. You have your assignment – go do it. Only the shade has the knowledge we need and we cannot allow him to keep it to himself. Go.”

So, Sharra went.

From the start, we had many different kinds of players in mind when creating the game. We considered the different classes found in classic video games, but since the game revolves around evil triumphing over the light, we gladly went another direction and chose untraditional kinds of classes for players to play as. We went with 3 classes to start (and that stayed the number for the base game), and we created them to each cover a variety of typical playstyles that appeal to players and make every game feel unique and different from the last. This week, I'm going to be talking about one of those classes: The Revenant class.

The Revenant class was designed for players who want to play Dark Lord as scary, ominous, relentless, and devastating characters. Those who find themselves playing Priests, Necromancers, and Mages in video games will feel very comfortable picking a Revenant identity. This class is all about playing cards that summon Creatures that destroy or take over enemies on the tile they're summoned on, cast spells that weaken and destroy opponents, and gain permanent auras that greatly strengthen your Lord unit.

In addition to these strategies, the Revenant class also has a unique perk that other classes don't get: When your Lord unit is dead, many of your Revenant class cards become more powerful, enabling you to cast Creatures and Spells anywhere on the board. This makes Revenants very tricky to deal with, making other players consider more about when is the right time to go after and kill a Revenant Lord unit.

Revenants are a less popular kind of humanoid creature that shows up in video games from time to time, but I have never been satisfied to the degree to which they've been used and their existence explored. In folklore, they are practically synonymous with vampires and zombies, but I much prefer the later idea that a revenant is a human of great power and grief, who somehow dies and cheats death due to either a curse or unfinished business, and transforms into a creature that is half shade, half undead human. The latter is what we were going for when designing this class.

There are 4 Revenant Lords of undeniably power, with dark pasts and even darker current existences, and they yearn for nothing more than to become the next Dark Lord.

Will you take on the role and terrifying existence of a Revenant Lord?


​Matt Alden Brown
Creative Director / Co-founder
Dystopic Entertainment

When Matt and I finally decided which characters we would use for the game, we had the idea to write lore for each character individually. This has been a challenge, as I've talked about previously, but not one I've undertaken lightly. What has ended up happening is the creation of twelve short, self-contained "vignettes" that each reveal a piece of a larger narrative (as I talked about here, last week) - not whole short-stories on their own, more like scenes, but collectively giving the reader a pretty good understanding of the world we've created.

Meredith's story is one of grand ambition. It was Meredith's actions that ultimately led to the Dark Lord's downfall, though she was not present to witness it and certainly not in the way she'd planned. We learn more about Meredith's backstory through other characters' lore; the story presented here shows the reader the nature of the Dark Lord's punishment for his former servant and only hints at the larger narrative. I wanted to combine Kafka and a Promethean punishment (which should give you a good clue as to what the hell's up with Meredith) and the result is our spidery Blood Mage. This is one of the more individually focused vignettes I've written for Dark Lord and as a result is one of my favorites. I sincerely hope you all enjoy it too.

Cheers,
Bobby Dillon
Co-Founder, Dystopic Entertainment

            The demoness failed her. The cursed girl betrayed her. Her soul is bound to this place, never freed by the release of death. Each day the poison would cease her heart’s beating. Each day her soul would return to her body, clawing back into its vessel, forcing her heart’s progress, forcing the coursing poison through her veins to burn her from the inside out all over.
            The spiders no longer terrified her. Their venom was as her blood itself. What terrified her now was eternity. Pain was nothing – the pain had become as normal as oxygen to her. Death? Death was a daily part of her existence, simply another routine part of life. Her eyes had even become accustomed to the darkness within the cave that was her prison. Her muscles were growing stronger again, after having atrophied from laying on the ground for so long, the weakness a product of the arachnids’ venom.
            But eternity…such a loathsome fate for one such as her – she deserved better! Indeed, she would have better. She knew this, even as the spiders envenomed her anew, even as the spiders consumed her very flesh. She did not even notice such things any longer, so long had she been subjected to these horrors. The Dark Lord was truly a creative judiciary, inspired in his punishments for those who betrayed him. She admired him, envied his drive and power, even as she loathed his very existence.
            She knew she had changed. She could feel…not her legs – other legs. She could feel the pebbles and dead spider corpses stuck to her hands, to the other legs. She felt stronger than she ever had before. Only the power of the Dark Lord kept her trapped in this prison. She smiled at this. For the first time in a century, there were those in the Land who were powerful enough to challenge him. She had been one of them, before the girl had betrayed her secrets – before the succubus had gotten herself ensnared in the soul eater’s nets. Had his discovery of her plot been intentional? Or, had he simply stumbled upon it? Was he truly enamored of the demoness?
            She would know the answers to these and many other questions. One did not get to possess such power as He did and stay powerful forever. Eventually, a challenger would arise. And when that time came, Meredith knew…her eternity would change. But what if that day never came?
            This question was terrifying in ways no amount of deadly, hungry, flesh-eating spiders could ever be.      Her day was coming to an end. She felt the poison gradually reaching toward her heart. It would be but a minute or so. As her sight dimmed, as the poison took her life, Meredith knew what awaited on the other side, knew that on the other side of life was –
 
            Simply darkness and pain.
 
            Ceaseless screams without a source.
 
            She didn’t believe there was a Hell until she’d entered the cave.
 
            Now she knew a Hell of her own making.
 
            Hell was eternity as a prisoner.
 
            Suddenly, light, blinding and painful. It was as if she’d never opened her eyes before, so intense was the sensation washing over her eyes. Pain and discomfort filled her body, filtering in through her eyes. For what seemed hours, she lay there, angry, pained, screaming at the light though unable to remove herself from it. As he eyes grew accustomed to the light, she felt her body growing stronger.
            She looked up and saw the cave open to the horizon. Surely this was a trap – surely this would simply be a sick game of the Dark Lord, though she had known him well. This was not his way. His was a direct and brutal malice, not one of cloaks and daggers or of subtle manipulation. That, she realized, was her way. She clawed her way to the opening, dragging legs behind her. In the distance she saw the Eye, smoke billowing from the summit, shrieks emanating from the surrounding crypts, caves, forests and graves.
            She knew what had happened intuitively. She had planned for, hoped for, thought about, obsessed over this moment for decades. Even as she had aided the Dark Lord she sought to depose him. She sensed the vacuum of power left in his wake. She would take up his mantle.
            She climbed from the entrance gingerly, making way toward the center of the Land.

Hello again,

Many people have asked how we developed such a beautiful and engaging board map for the game, so today I'm going to be showing off the evolution of our board map and some reasoning why we made particular changes along the way. Please note that the final version of the board map I show here may be modified before release.

​​
The final board map (shown above) was developed over 3 years, with many iterations tested along the way to try out new ideas and re-balance the many tiles overall. In order to understand what we're looking at in terms of symbols and how to go about playing on the board map, we need to understand what each tile does and what the overall goal of the game is.

The goal of the game is to destroy every game unit on the board that belongs to your opponents, essentially wiping them off the face of the Land and leaving you as the only player remaining. To do this, the player must build an army composing of different units (Minions, Demons, Shadow Lords, and their Lord) and spread out across the board map, controlling resource tiles that give them more units and resources to add to their army/collection at the beginning of his/her turn. With this comes a lot of strategy in placing units on the right tiles, pushing into territories at the risk of angering other players, and potentially spreading your army out too thin to defend against invasions.

​​​To learn about the game map tiles, check out our Game Manual page, which very simply explains how to use game units, board map tiles, Lord Character cards, and the different types of game cards used throughout the game.

Starting out, after we conceptualized the game, I drew up a board map to test all the initial ideas and concepts we came up with. The first map (v0.1.1) wasn't very pretty, but it served as a good foundation for later iterations. As you can tell in the following maps, we slowly refined how many tiles there were, introduced resource tiles, adjusted the general layout, and further refined the four areas of the map. Above are merely the ones that are easily told apart from each other--we tested many more versions of the map between the gaps of versions shown above. Over the course of 3 years, we play-tested over 50 versions of Dark Lord, and there were probably about 1/4 as many board maps. The board map originally measured 25"x25", but we later shrunk it to a 24"x24" quad-fold board map that folds to 12"x12" to make the game fit into a more standard box size.

If you look closely, you can see that we decided to keep the four area types (snow, desert, dark, and forest areas representing the four corners of the Land) from conceptualization through alpha, beta, and final stages of the game. Once we were set on exactly how we wanted the map to be laid out, our dedicated artist created the final versions of the board map and modified it as we needed.

We are very happy to say that this version of the board map (v1.3.0) is extremely tested, highly refined, and damn near perfect for pitting players against each other in to determine who will become the next Dark Lord.

​
Matt Alden Brown
Creative Director / Co-founder
Dystopic Entertainment

Morningstar was one of the first characters I wrote the lore for (though not THE first). I had the idea for Morningstar to be a reference to Lucifer (of Biblical fame) which I'm sure is very obvious to anyone even tangentially familiar with the story of his fall. Morningstar is one of the most important characters in the lore, being the one who ultimately lands the killing blow on the Dark Lord (see The Fall from last week), but his story is simply an easy introduction to the broader narrative - a narrative in which he plays a relatively small part.

I'm hoping to sort of reveal these in a way that slowly peels back the layers of connectivity that I've tried to build into the individual stories, starting with everyone's favorite fallen angel, Morningstar.

Hope you enjoy,
Cheers,
Bobby Dillon
Co-Founder, Dystopic Entertainment

            He thrust forward with all remaining strength, piercing through the Dark Lord and fell to his knees, screaming. Rage, fear, pain, and hatred burst forth from his piercing shout. The fury of this rush of emotion blinded him. He had never felt such as this – as though a piece of him had suddenly been torn from his being.
            The pain wracked his body, paralyzing him. He fell prone, unable to pick himself up. The gathered demons, remnants of the Dark Lord’s fell host broke the silence, issuing forth a collective, guttural shout as if mourning their fallen Lord. They set upon Morningstar with wild abandon, tearing his armor from his body before setting their claws upon his skin.
            Morningstar felt nothing but pain, saw nothing but darkness, and heard nothing but the fearsome, angry cries of the demons, furiously thrashing at his body with claw, tooth and sword, slicing and ripping into his wings – a pain as he had never known before. They gathered him up and threw him from the Eye. He fell, tumbled from the Olympian height, broken and bloody as the Demons lifted above their heads the remains of their liege.
            The proud Angel of Morning faded from consciousness.

                                                                                             *******
 
            “Your boldness is your downfall, Morningstar. You presume to wrest command from this council and take it for yourself – for what purpose? It will serve none but your own pride. Or do you simply seek to be free from oversight, free from accountability?”
            Morningstar held the collective gaze of the Radiant Council. A fire rose in his chest, burning his heart, fighting to be let forth. He would put them in their place, show them the truth.
            He took a deep breath, steadied himself.
            “You wear your emotions as plain as day Morningstar. We see right through you – the rage that builds at a moment’s notice, the fury that bubbles just below the surface. You are not fit to lead us. You are rash and arrogant. A fine general you are, but nothing more.”
            “How can I be anything but when my every decision is run through the mill and every imperfection held up as an example of arrogance or pride or shame? You have made me thus, in your shortsightedness, in your collective inability to accept change. In your ignorance.”
            “Watch your tongue, boy. Understand to whom you speak. We are not common soldiers for you to talk down to so. We are the collective wisdom and might of the Angels and you will respect us as such.”
            “The Dark Lord will march upon us within the month – what good is your collective might and wisdom if it cannot see that. Are you all truly so blind?”
            “No army has ever assailed our bastion at the Eye and breached the walls of our Holy Keep. It cannot be done, no matter how powerful the Dark Lord may be.”
            Morningstar scoffed. “And you call me arrogant. You blind old fools dare to call me arrogant and rash, yet you cannot see the danger three inches from your nose.”
            “This is your last warning, o ‘Angel of Morning,’” the Council sneered, speaking in one voice. “Do not think that your strength in combat or your tactical prowess make you indispensable to us. We have hundreds who would leap at the opportunity to take your place. You lead because we allow it. Do not forget that. You are dismissed.”
            Morningstar felt as though he would burst with fury, his fists clenched and his jaw tight, as he turned from the council chambers.
 
                                                                                             *******
 
            He didn't know how far he had fallen, nor how long he had lain in a heap on the ledge overlooking the snow-covered Frost Plains which still, despite his tumble, stretched out far below him.
            His mind was aware of little beyond the hellish pain radiating from his open wounds and broken bones, though a groaning rumble, growing in volume and rattling the earth around him, made itself known.
            With great pain, he looked up, toward the peak above the blackened clouds from which he had been thrown. A glow, the color of blood and fire, shone from the peak and a tenebrous shape appeared, slowly, as flames burst forth from the mountain, all around him, above and below. The mountain bled with molten, oozing fire as rock, soot and dirt spewed forth from the peak and the rumble grew, the earth itself bouncing under the angel's prone, broken body.
            He faded from consciousness.
 
                                                                                             *******
 
            Morningstar, bound and kneeling, addressed the Radiant Council, his pride never wavering.
            “You refused to listen. So I took action while you talked. I made a decision that will win this war before it starts while you ponderous, antiquated fools stood by.”
            “You defied our orders, putting an entire commando in danger. In turn, by doing so, you risk information vital to our very survival falling into the Dark Lord's hands.”
            “But that is not what happened. Rather, I have acquired information as to the locations of each of the Dark Lord's closest advisers and done so quietly – they will never know we are coming, but we must move fast!”
            “Your zeal and aggression have become too much of a risk. You clearly have no idea what you have risked by merely going beyond our Green Fields,” the Radiant Council spoke.
            Morningstar, resigned, lowered his head. “What is your decision?”
            “We do not make this decision lightly.”
            “Tell me.”
            “Exile.”
            Morningstar stood rapidly and shattered his bonds with a deft movement, to the shock of the collected council members.
            “I would rather you kill me. You know what awaits a lone Angel beyond our borders. You know the superstitious drivel the people believe. You know that demons have become bolder than ever before and roam in packs across the Land,” Morningstar pled furiously with the Council. “You can't do this to me, after all I've done for this Council, for our people, you would doom me to a fate worse than death?”
            “We do not make this decision lightly. Do not pretend that you are guiltless here, Morningstar, we are not cruel, nor rash, nor unfair. Your own actions bring you to this. You have endangered us, defied us, deceived us and mocked us for the last time and no longer can we slap your wrist and send you back out. You have served us faithfully and well, this is true, though it in no way balances the scales. It will be exile.”
            The building rage could no longer be contained. Morningstar, free of his bonds, launched himself at the council, screaming with rage. As he came within arm's reach a concussive blast knocked the wind from his lungs and launched him to the floor of the council chambers.
            “Your true nature is no mystery to us, Angel of Morning. You cannot be controlled, you cannot be guided. You are no longer welcome in this Holy Keep, nor are you welcome within the borders of our Green Fields. Henceforth you are exiled under penalty of death.”
            “You think my soldiers will just let you do this? They are loyal to me – not you.”
            “Indeed, which is why they will share your fate. Be gone, Morningstar. Not without mourning do we do this. We held you in the highest esteem, once.”
 
                                                                                             *******

            The heat pounded his skin, waking him. He took stock of his surroundings and understood that inaction meant death. Recent events flooded his mind. His exile commando slaughtered, along with the rest of his Angelic people. He thought on this and felt...
            …nothing.
            He sat up with extreme effort, grunting and yelling as wounds reopened.
            His wings were useless in this state. Bloody, scratched, torn and shredded. He would not fly his way to safety.
            Suddenly an urge, a calling, drew his gaze to the peak of the Eye. The tenebrous shape he had witnessed held his gaze. A chair? No, a throne – a throne of blood and fire.
            He slowly turned away with great difficulty, wanting nothing more than to head toward the Dark Throne which had arisen above him. He knew, however, that he was in no shape to continue. He gingerly made his way down the mountain.
            But he would recover his strength.
            He would take this prize – his reward for slaughtering the Dark Lord like the vermin he was.
            He deserved it.
            He would return.